


Mr. Jones

by karmacanary



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:49:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8819194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmacanary/pseuds/karmacanary
Summary: Set after the S6 mid-winter finale, Killian Jones has been hit by a wicked spell leveled by someone who's determined to keep him from upsetting some carefully crafted plans. He's not the man he used to be. . . or is he? This one will get steamy, as always.





	1. Wisps & Inklings

Killian Jones was not having a good day.

He stared up at the darkening sky from the bottom of the canyon, then back at the line of boys trailing behind him.

"Look alive!" he shouted, and their three heads came up in unison. Jack, the eldest, circled back as Will - who was right behind him - quickened his pace. Killian could hear Jack encouraging John, who was youngest, but John was having none of it.

"-dragging us out here when it's a hundred degrees outside," young John grumbled. "I _hate_ hiking."

"Come on," Jack cajoled. "We used to hike with Dad, remember?"

"He's _not_ Dad."

"No, he's not," Jack said tiredly. "But we're gonna be out here all night if you don't get a move on."

Will made a rude noise from up ahead. "One night in the desert is enough for me with this clown."

"Hey!" Killian called out sharply. "That's enough lollygagging. Those are storm clouds overhead." He pointed up, above the ridge. "We don't want to be caught on the canyon floor when the rain hits."

"It's desert," Will pointed out. "It would have to rain for ten hours before the ground would even get wet enough to make mud."

"My point exactly," Killian said, putting his hand on his hip as he surveyed the terrain. "The water will run first, and with great force and speed. A flash flood will take you down before you even know it's upon you. Let's get higher and find shelter before that occurs, shall we?"

"All the way up there?" John asked, looking up at the wall of rock in dismay.

"Come on butterball," Will said snidely. "I'll give you a twinkie if you beat me to the top!"

"Will!" Jack's voice carried a warning note. "Lay off."

"You make me," Will bit back. "You're not the boss of me. Or anybody."

"I can kick your ass easy enough," Jack promised.

"Bring it!" Will stepped forward, swinging, but found his momentum arrested as Killian pulled him back by the shirt, hard, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

"Enough!" Killian roared. "All you three have done for the last three days is bicker and complain! You might try acting like brothers and seeing to each other's welfare! We're all in danger, and none of you are going to die on my watch! Is that clear?"

Will got up without a sound, dusting off his jeans and shaking his backpack into place. "Come on," he said to John. "Follow me up. I'll show you where to step."

Jack watched them go with troubled eyes. "They do look out for each other," he defended to Killian. "It's just that sometimes-"

"Sometimes you behave like squabbling brothers," Killian finished. "I know."

"Do you have brothers?"

Killian shrugged. "I don't know. I feel as though I'm familiar with the feeling. The rapport between all of you - it feels like I've had it before, somehow. I just don't know."

"It must suck, not having your memory." Jack gave him a sympathetic look that made Killian grit his teeth. He'd seen far too much of that look in the six months since he'd walked into town.

"It sucks," he agreed, shouldering his pack again, just as the raindrops started falling. "Let's go."

He moved in behind the boys as they scrambled up the side of the cliff wall, shouting out directions from below.

"John, your foot! Don't grab with your hand until your foot is seated!" A small tumble of rocks slid down behind the boy as he regained his foothold.

"Will, help him!" Jack shouted.

"You help him! I can barely get a grip up here!" Will shouted back.

"To the left!" Killian called out. "That overhang - we need to get to it!" His words were drowned out by an enormous clap of thunder as the rain began to fall harder, pelting them until their skin was red from it. Will managed to pull himself up to the ledge, reaching down to yank John up next to him, then they ran for the shelter of the overhang. The cliff wall was slick, and pieces of it were crumbling to mud between the rocks.

"Careful, Jack!" Killian called. "Don't grab for any rocks smaller than your head!"

"Got it!" Jack called back, but his sneaker slipped, sending him sliding backwards. Killian leaned right, anchoring himself with a booted foot against a large boulder as Jack crashed into him.

"Got you," he panted. "Come on, let's angle over here."

He pushed the boy toward the safer path, and in just a few minutes, they were levering themselves over the ledge and racing for the overhang. The four of them stood beneath the large rock ledge, shivering with cold but no longer exposed to the elements.

"Holy shit!" Will said, leaning out a bit to look over the edge. "Do you see that? Holy shit!"

Killian and the other boys edged toward the rim, and Killian laid a cautionary hand on John's shoulder. "Not so close, John," he said. "Careful."

The canyon below them ran several feet deep with roiling brown water, rushing with such force that smaller rocks were torn away from the walls, shearing off and slamming into the sides as the water took them away. An occasional scrub bush floated by, torn from its roots. There was no doubt what that water could have done to human flesh.

"Wow," Jack said. "We would have been goners."

"We wouldn't have had to worry about it if we weren't out here in the first place," Will pointed out.

"Shut up," Jack said, rolling his eyes and thoroughly annoyed.

"You saved our lives," John said, looking up at Killian.

But Killian wasn't listening. He hadn't heard a word since he'd stepped closer and looked down. The sight of the water raging, the waves slapping the rocks, the feel of the spray as it hit his face. . . the pull was so strong, he nearly dove in.

"Killian?"

He looked down at John's concerned face. "It's all right," he said. "Sometimes I think I'm getting a memory, but it never comes."

"Sucks to be you," Jack said, punching his arm lightly.

Killian couldn't help but chuckle. "That's the way of it. Sucks to be me."

###

"How'd it go today?" Lou Ann asked as Killian loaded the boys' backpacks into the minivan.

"They were brilliant," he said, smiling widely. "Every day is more adventurous than the last."

"You were paid up-front," Lou Ann reminded him with smirk. "You don't have to lay it on so thick."

"I'm not," he said. "We scaled a canyon wall under extreme circumstances and came out the victors. I call that an adventure any day."

"Can we stop at McDonald's?" John whined. "All I had since lunch was beef jerky and granola."

"And an orange," Killian reminded him. "To keep scurvy at bay."

"Scurvy?" Lou Ann laughed out loud. "Mr. Jones, I don't know where you come from, but you talk like a movie on the Hallmark channel."

"Maybe you were an actor," Jack said, leaning to look around Lou Ann from the passenger seat.

"If he was an actor, his disappearance would be all over the news, numb-nuts."

"Will!" Lou Ann's said sharply. "Language!"

"Are we going?" John asked."I'm staaarrrving!"

"Same time tomorrow, boys," Killian said. "And don't forget - Friday we're camping out!"

"Great." There was no mistaking the annoyance in Will's exaggerated tone.

"See ya, Mr. J," Jack said, giving Killian a wave as they pulled away. He watched them go, then turned to head back inside the small adobe building, rotating his head on his shoulder and flexing his arm in a circle as he went.

"Rough one?" Billy asked from behind the counter.

"That cloudburst caught us unaware," he said. "I've never seen it's like. The sky lit up with a glow I'd never seen before. It was like. . . magic." He rubbed the back of his neck, then rotated his arm once again.

"Pulled your shoulder, didja?" Billy asked. "I got a heatin' pad in the back if you need to borrow it."

"I may do that, thanks," Killian said. "One-armed rock climbing takes a toll."

"They make special climbing attachments for guys like you," Billy said, pointing down at Killian's stump. "But I hear they're expensive. If you can prove you were a veteran, you might get some help with that. Not sure as they'll pay for a climber, though."

"I get by all right," Killian said. "Did we get that second group in for sunset walk tomorrow?"

"Yep. They're all from New Hampshire or some such. They want an _authentic desert experience_."

Killian raised a brow. "I'll do my best. Still won't do the accent, though."

"You're the one with the accent," Billy reminded him. "If you weren't so damn good at your job, I'd have never hired you, sounding like a european pompadour. But there's no denying that face brings in the money."

"Well, I'm off. See you tomorrow."

"Later, pompadour."

Killian grabbed his helmet on his way out the door, then slung his leg over his bicycle. It was only ten minutes to the tiny apartment he called home, and he trod up the stairs, tired to the bone. The apartment complex only held forty units, plaza-style, overlooking a central courtyard that was nothing more than rocks and cactus, with one carefully placed bench that no one ever sat on. The owners tried to discourage people crossing the courtyard instead of using the walkways around, but the paths worn between the white rocks were testament to the futility of that.

He got the door open, tossing his keys and pack down on the table in the small kitchenette before running himself a nice, hot shower. It took two passes with the soap to get all of the dirt off him, and he lingered under the fall of the water, soaking it in. Once again, he felt a wave of something, as he watched the water splash off his hands. He remembered how the river tore through the canyon, and he put his head against the tiles of the shower stall in frustration. It was almost there. Almost.

He shut off the water with a sigh.

 _"Best not to force it,_ " the doctor had said. _"Your memory will come back in bits and pieces, if it comes back at all."_

Bits and pieces ended up being wisps and inklings, but nothing solid. No miraculous flash of a loved-one's face or a revealing name suddenly coming unbidden to his tongue. If it hadn't been for his chance run-in with the law somewhere in New York City a few years back, he'd never have known his own name. They were calling him "Ken" up until the police ran his fingerprints. It was as close as he could remember.

But he wasn't Ken. He was Killian Jones, birthplace New York, living in New York at no particular address, and he'd given his occupation as "Entrepreneur." No Google search had found him, or anyone who knew him, or discovered the reason he'd been wandering in the god-forsaken desert for days. He'd been carefully saving from each paycheck since Billy hired him, and someday he was going back to New York. He had no idea what he'd find there, but he felt like he should try.

Most days, anyway.

As time passed, he felt the urge to do that fading away. He was home here, in the desert. He had a job he liked and a place to live and food in his belly. He could have had plenty of female companionship while he was at it, but something held him back. It didn't seem fair being with someone when you had no idea who you were yourself.

He toweled off and stepped into some faded plaid pajama pants, comfortable and worn. He'd shopped the Goodwill store for all his fashions. A desert survival tour guide salary wasn't taking him far, but he liked what he did. There was something familiar about fighting the elements, facing adversity, and being out under a crystal-clear sky full of stars that made him feel like he belonged there, if he truly belonged anywhere. New York didn't sound like home. He was sure of that.

He'd just settled down on the tattered couch with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup when he heard the crash. A neighbor's voice carried through her open window.

"Keep it down out there!" she yelled.

Killian set his dinner on the coffee table and walked to the door, opening it. He stared down the row, first left, then right. A box full of odds and ends - an old lamp, a digital alarm clock, some clothes, a few dishes - was scattered across the balcony walkway, but there was no one in sight. He pulled his door shut behind him and scratched his head as he stared at the mess.

"What the devil?" he muttered, glancing up to see if someone had dropped it off the roof, when suddenly the door open in the neighboring apartment. A woman - a beautiful woman, he silently amended, with the most glorious cloud of blonde hair stepped through, then froze in her tracks, startled, when she saw him.

"Uh. . ."

Her eyes were wide, and she was slowly breaking into a smile at the sight of his face. He was used to that, of course, but this smile. . .well, it made him want to smile back.

"Hello," he said by way of greeting. "Lost something?"

She glanced down at the broken items and the upended box. "Yeah," she laughed. "I guess you could say so."

"May I offer a hand? I've only the one but I'd be glad to put it to good use." He held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers, bringing on another laugh.

"I'd appreciate that," she said. "I've been moving in all day and I'm just exhausted."

She started to squat down but he waved her off. "Get off your feet," he said. "I've got this."

She gave him a grateful smile and walked back into her apartment - a fact that he was thankful for, as the box was ungainly and getting it in a good grip took some doing with only one hand. He managed, as he always did, and at her direction, he set it down on the sofa.

The place was bare with only a few boxes scattered about. She must have moved everything to the bedroom if she'd been moving all day, as she claimed. There was hardly anything here.

"Can I offer you a drink?" she asked, reaching for a bottle from a cupboard.

His mouth watered, but he shook his head. "Thanks, no. I don't drink."

Her eyes popped wide. "You don't _drink_?"

It was a common reaction, but he refused to apologize for it. "Doesn't appeal to me," he said. "At any rate, I have a dinner that's getting cold."

"Oh. Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just thought we should introduce ourselves. Over a drink."

She wasn't blushing. Her eyes were warm and her manner direct. He was so used to stammering women, or fawning women, or forceful and somewhat scary women. This one was none of that, and he found himself intrigued.

"The name is Killian," he said. "And you are?"

"Emma." Her eyes hadn't left his, and her answering smile showed that she'd seen him react to the mere sound of her name. The familiarity of it wrapped around him like a warm blanket and he gritted his teeth in frustration, willing it to flower into a full memory. But, as always, it dwindled back to nothingness.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

"Forgive me. I had a major head injury half a year ago, and the recovery has been difficult. I still have moments where things are a bit. . . scrambled."

"It's all right," she said. "I'm glad to meet you, Killian."

"Likewise."

They stood staring at each other for a long moment, until he finally realized he was probably behaving like the village idiot, ogling her that way. He gave her an embarrassed nod and headed for the door, pulling it closed behind him. Emma listened for the sound of his own door opening, then closing and she sank down into the chair in the kitchen, putting her elbows on the table and her face in her hands.

She was silent for a few moments before pulling herself together, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

"I found you," she whispered in relief. "I've finally found you."


	2. Out Of His Element

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello readers! Long time, no see! I've been busy, as a lot of you know. My YA novel comes out in bookstores Feb 7th, I'm lining up book tours and blog tours, I'm knee-deep in edits on the sequel, I'm still running the recap blog, as well as three other blogs, working full-time and generally losing my mind. Other than that, life's been swell. This isn't going to be a long fic, but I'll do my level best to carry you through the hiatus and wrap it up pretty by March 5th.**
> 
> **So strap in, everyone - let's go for a ride!**

****

* * *

Storybrooke, six months ago. . .

.

Killian was just reaching for the bottle again when he heard the knock.

"Killian!"

He toyed with the idea of not answering Henry. In truth, he'd planned to finish off this bottle and lie down, hoping that sleep would claim him quickly. It was a familiar routine - one he'd spent centuries perfecting in Neverland, then revisited for that hellish year back in the Enchanted Forest. Now here he was again, adrift without Emma, falling into his routine once more.

"Killian! Come on, I know you're in there."

He ran a hand over his eyes. There was nothing for it. He had to answer Henry. Since Emma and Regina had gone, Killian felt a stronger bond forming with him. It had been two months already, and they were still no closer to getting Emma back.

"I'm here, Henry," he called, pushing the bottle aside. "Come in."

He heard the door open and Henry stepped inside, closing it behind him. "You're drinking again?"

"To drink again, one would have to stop in the first place," he said with a wide an unapologetic grin. The grin faded slowly, and his face grew grim. "It's the only way I can fall asleep."

Henry sat down at the kitchen table next to him. "I should move back in," he said. "I'm not getting any sleep with the baby waking up all night. Maybe I could just borrow a bottle of rum."

Killian's eyebrow went up. "For you, or the baby?"

"I'm not sure." Henry grinned back.

"Here," Killian said, sliding the bottle across the table with a chuckle. "Take a swig. But only one."

Henry's eyes widened. "You mean it?"

"I had my first swig of rum at much more tender age. Go on, then. Just don't tell your grandparents. They'd have my hide for it."

Henry reached for the bottle, and after one more reassuring nod from Killian, he tipped it up and took a very large swallow. Then he promptly coughed half of it back up. Killian reached over and pounded him on the back as Henry gasped and coughed a few times more.

"It. . .went up my nose. . ." he coughed again. "It. . . _burns_."

"And that was a bottle of the smoother variety," Killian said. "I've had rum that would melt your back teeth."

Henry pushed the bottle away. "I've had enough, thanks. And anyway, I didn't come here to drink."

"You want to play Xbox?" Killian asked. "Or is it a game of dice this evening?"

"Neither," Henry said. "I came to get your help. I think I might know a way to get my moms back."

Killian sat up in his chair. "Something we haven't tried?" he asked hopefully.

"Something new," Henry answered. "We can't use the Black Fairy's wand because it's missing, and there are no more magic beans. But I found this in the library."

Henry pulled a small, leather-bound book out of his coat and laid it on the table, leafing through it until he found what he needed. "Right here. Look at this."

His finger tapped the page, and Killian leaned in to look. "It's an amulet."

"Yeah, but not just any amulet. It belonged to a princess and at its very center is a hollow diamond, containing water from Lake Nostos."

Henry's hand dug into his pocket again, and he set a withered bean sprout on the table next to the book. "I managed to dig this up in the old bean field," he said. "If we can find the amulet, we can use a dwarf pickaxe to break open the diamond, and get to the water."

"And the water can rejuvenate the bean sprout," Killian finished, with a blazing light in his eyes. "Henry! That's outstanding! Where's the amulet?"

"I don't know."

"What d'you mean you don't know?" Killian made a face.

"I sort-of know. I think. It's a possibility, anyway."

"Well, a possibility is more than we've had in entirely too long. Where shall we start looking?"

"My mom's vault. I think that's where it might be."

"There's no time to waste, then. Let's go." Killian was on his feet and heading for the door.

"Can we hit Granny's on the way?" Henry asked. "I haven't had lunch yet and that rum is not sitting right."

"Rum on an empty stomach is probably not the best tonic for a lad your age," Killian agreed. "You call ahead on your mobile phone for some sandwiches and we'll take it with us."

Granny was just wrapping up their order when they arrived, but the fries still had a few more minutes to go, so they pulled up a stool at the counter to wait.

"Where exactly did you see the amulet before?" Killian asked. "Has Regina worn it?"

"I don't think so, but it's hard to say. She has a lot of jewelry. And that's not where I saw it."

"Where, then?"

"I was looking through the card index at my grandfather's shop. I thought maybe he'd have something. He had a card for the necklace, but it also showed that he'd sold it a few years ago - to Cora."

"Cora!" Killian rubbed his jaw. "And Regina has all of her things."

"That's right. So I'm hoping it's in the vault, with all of the other stuff."

"You're sure you can get to it?"

Henry nodded. "I've got a way in. Once we get the amulet open and get this bean plant growing again, we'll have my moms home in no time."

"Excuse me," the dark-haired woman at the counter next to Killian interrupted. "Can you pass me the ketchup, please?"

"Certainly." He reached across, sliding the bottle on the counter over to her.

"Are you new here?" Henry asked, looking at her curiously. "I thought I got everyone from the Land of Untold Stories."

She lowered her head, as if embarrassed. "I was ill so I didn't make it to the census meeting, and with all that happened after I wasn't sure I'd be welcome. I'm glad I finally got up the guts to check the town out. It's nice here."

"It _is_ nice here," Henry agreed. "I'm Henry, this is Killian."

"Sorcha," she said, shaking his hand. "Of Agrabah."

"Agrabah? Then you must know Jasmine and Aladdin," Henry said.

"Oh! They were here?"

"You just missed them," Killian said. "They've returned home."

Her face fell. "Oh, now I really feel terrible. I'd give anything to help them reclaim the kingdom."

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Henry asked. "I can set you up with a fostering family until you can get on your feet."

"I'm staying at the convent, thank you. The sisters have been so helpful, nursing me back to health."

"Fries are up!" Granny called out, placing a large paper bag on the counter. "And don't go shoveling them in right away," she said, smacking the back of Henry's reaching hand with a wooden spoon. "You'll burn yourself. Give 'em a minute to cool down."

Killian raised a sardonic brow as Henry rubbed the back of his hand.

"Nice meeting you," Henry said. "I'd like to stop by the convent later and visit you, if I can. I'm collecting everyone's stories. I'd do it now but we're kinda pressed for time."

"I'd like that," Sorcha said, smiling. "But I can come to you? I'd hate to disturb the sisters."

"How about seven o'clock, right here at Granny's?"

"That's fine," she said. "Nice to meet you, Henry. Killian." She gave them both a smile as they headed out the door. Killian waited until they were a fair distance away before he offered an opinion on their new acquaintance.

"I'd wager my entire store of rum that's she's not as upset over Aladdin and Jasmine as she claims to be."

"What makes you think that?" Henry asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Just a feeling. It's awfully convenient that she only made herself known after they'd left, don't you think?"

"Maybe she's some kind of criminal in their kingdom or something," Henry theorized. "I'll see what I can do to get her story."

He reached into his pocket as they made their way down the steps to the vault, and he stopped short in front of one of the bare walls. "Watch this," he said to Killian, as he pulled out the fountain pen. He set it to the wall and drew a door, glowing with magical lines that settled into the rock, taking on dimension. Henry reached for the newly-drawn knob and turned it, stepping into the vault with Killian right behind.

"I found out I can make my own doors," Henry said. "Cool, huh?"

"Very. Now where do we begin?" Killian asked.

"I'll take this side," Henry suggested, "and you start on the shelves over there. It shouldn't take more than a few hours to get through it all. Just be careful what you touch."

"If Cora's things are in here, caution is more than warranted," Killian agreed. He stepped over to the shelves nearby and pulled out a basket, replacing the lid quickly when he saw the viper inside, its eyes glowing an unnatural shade of red. His next item was an ordinary clay jar - until he lifted the lid. The contents smelled like fresh air carried across the ocean, like sun-baked sails and wood polish and something else. . . a mix of leather and a subtle perfume with notes of bergamot. He put his nose in again, inhaling deeply.

"Killian?"

It took him a moment to realize Henry had called his name more than a few times. He set the lid back on the bewitching jar, shaking his head to clear it. His hand didn't seem to want to let the jar go.

"Bloody hell," he said.

"I told you to be careful. Are you okay?"

Killian nodded, but the truth was he was shaken. Whatever that was smelled just like Emma, on the day he'd taken her out on his ship. The sun had been high and the skies had been blue and the sea was a perfectly rolling wonder. She was wearing that leather jacket, and he'd joked with her that someday, he'd like to see her in that and nothing else. She'd obliged him, right there on the deck, with the wind whipping her hair and the sails rippling overhead. He managed to get her below before he fell on her like a starving man.

"Killian?"

"I'm all right," he finally said. "Let's just find the damn amulet."

Henry stepped into a closet, rummaging through boxes at the back, and Killian moved down the shelves, shifting and poking, before he turned to step back. He tripped over a large walking staff that he somehow hadn't noticed on the floor, and when he moved to pick it up, the handle felt strangely warm. There was writing on the side, and with a start, he realized he understood it.

Strange how things come back you, he mused. Connor had been one of the Lost Boys, and smart as a whip. His mother had taught school until she'd died of a fever, and Connor could have been anything he'd set his mind to - if he hadn't become a Lost Boy. He was fascinated by Killian, but not because he was a pirate. Unlike the other boys, Connor's fascination came from a deep and abiding love for the sea. He'd lived in a port town in his native land, and he was thrilled whenever Killian let him aboard the Jolly. He'd taught Killian his native tongue, just out of boredom, and in return, Killian taught him every knot he knew.

He was a wonderful lad - until he crossed Felix, and then he was gone. Killian grimaced at the memory. He stared at the staff, squinting to make out the letters as his mind reached back for their meaning. Languages were always a good thing to learn, as you never knew where you might turn up. And here he was, using the skill.

"Caillfidh tú féin," Killian read aloud.

A moment later, Henry poked his head out of the closet. "What was that sound?" he asked, having heard a crash. But there was no one there to answer his question. "Killian?" His head turned as he surveyed the empty vault. "Killian?"

###

"Let's go over it one more time," David said. "He was there, you were in the closet, you heard a noise-"

"And he was just gone. Just _gone._ " Henry said. "I think the noise came from that." He pointed over to the walking stick. "It was lying in the middle of the floor, and I don't remember it being there when I came in."

"Could he have found a portal?"

"I didn't see any light or hear any wind," Henry said. "Portals are pretty powerful. I can't imagine I wouldn't have heard that."

"Could he have found some other way - to get to Emma, I mean? What do we know about the staff?"

"Nothing," Henry said. "Have you ever seen it before?"

"It's not a shepherd's crook," David said, tilting his head to look at it. "What's this writing?"

"I'm not sure." He sank back against the table behind him. "I finally found a way to get my Mom home, and she's going to leave again to go find Killian."

"You've found the amulet?"

Henry pulled it out of his pocket. "Yeah. Now we just need a dwarf pickaxe."

"Leave that to me," David said. "You head over to the library and get any information on this staff that you can. When Emma gets back, she's going to want to know what happened, if we haven't figured out how to reverse it by then."

###

"You're not going to talk me out of this," Emma said to Snow, as she stuffed another shirt into her bag.

Snow stared at her daughter with wide eyes. "You know where he is?"

"Yes."

"Is that what Henry texted you about?"

"He doesn't know yet," Emma said, reaching for her red jacket. "I'm stopping by the library before I go because he says he's got something important to show me."

"Killian is not going to like you traveling through a portal," Snow said, making a face.

Emma's eyebrows moved up into her hairline. "I followed him to _hell_ ," she reminded.

"And he wasn't thrilled with that, as I recall. . ."

"I don't need a portal," Emma said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "He's in our world. And I'm going after him. You know you'd do the same."

Snow wisely chose not to answer that. "If I know Killian, he's fighting his hardest to get back to you."

"So . . . what? I should just sit back and wait?" Emma dragged her fingers through her hair in exasperation. "It's been two months since I got back. Six months since he went missing. Something must have happened."

"I know -"

"Mom. I have to do this."

Snow pulled Emma in, folding her arms around her. "I know you do," she whispered. "I know you do."

###

"Make it fast, Henry," Emma said as she stepped through the library door. "I've got the car running."

"I know why Killian hasn't tried to come back," Henry said. "And I know where he is - kind of."

"Oh really? Show me."

Henry pushed a large book of Irish mythology out of the way, and pulled out a storybook from a stack of them on the table. "Remember these?"

"The storybooks, from the Land of Untold Stories," Emma said. "You think that's where Killian is?"

"This book isn't from the Land of Untold Stories. It's mostly blank, except for one page." Henry opened the book, spinning it around so that Emma could see it.

"That's him!" Emma said. "And he's in the middle of the desert."

"That's what it looks like to me," Henry agreed.

"Who are the kids following behind him? Does it say?"

Henry shook his head. "No it's just a picture. I can't even be sure which desert. It doesn't look like Agrabah. . ."

"He's not in Agrabah," Emma said. "He's in Santa Fe."

"New Mexico? In our realm?" Henry looked confused. "How do you know that?"

"First you tell me why he's there."

Henry reached for the book of mythology. "I found the book I've been looking for," Henry said, opening the tome. "This section deals with the ancient Celtic god _Luchtaine_ , who was known for his mastery of carpentry and woodworking. According to legend, he made a few different magical items, but the most powerful was a shillelagh, used in several important battles. It carries the inscription, _"Caillfidh tú féin,"_ and when the bearer utters the words, it has a stunning effect."

"What effect?" Emma asked, alarmed. "What do the words mean?"

"The incantation means - literally - _lose yourself,_ and once uttered," Henry read, tracing the passage with his finger, "the bearer is taken to a place he never was, to be who he never was, for good or for ill."

"So he's in the desert," Emma said. "In a land without magic. He couldn't be further out of his element. So how do I break the curse? Memory potion?"

"I don't know," Henry said. "It's not a curse in a traditional sense, so much as it is an _undoing._ The only way to bring him back to who he once was is to connect him to all the things that are fundamentally him."

"Is there a list or something?"

Henry looked up and gave her a sympathetic look. "I think you have to make your own."

"Swell."

"If anyone can remind Killian of who he really is, my money's on you," Henry said. "And I still think you should take me with you."

"I want you here," Emma said. "Especially if you can read his story as it unfolds. You may be able to give me inside info that no one else can. I'll call you with updates, I promise."

Henry frowned. "I don't think Killian would want you going alone."

"Not you, too," Emma grumbled. "I'll be fine. I'll get him back, and in the meantime, keep that damn shillelagh out of anyone else's reach." She pulled him in for a hug, then turned and walked to the door.

"Mom!" Henry called out. "You didn't tell me how you figured out where he was."

Emma looked back over her shoulder as she opened the door. "I went to your grandfather's shop," she said.

Henry's eyes widened. "Oh."

"I love you. See you soon."

She closed the door behind her, and Henry opened the book of Irish mythology, settling himself into the chair before it, and he began to read.


	3. On The Mesa

"No luck yet," Emma said into the phone as she spread the peanutbutter on her bread. "Well, other than finding him, I mean."

"It's a start," Henry's voice carried through the phone. "I've got a little bit of info I can share from my end. According to the alternate book, Killian is working as some kind of desert survival tour guide."

"How the hell did that happen?"

" _Everything he never was_ , remember?"

"Is he going to be all meek and cowardly again?" Emma couldn't help but smile at the memory. That Killian had been endearingly sweet.

"Maybe. But I doubt it. If he's a desert survival guide, he's got to be tough."

"Just reacting to his circumstances," Emma said. "Which is very Killian. He always could go with the flow."

"Speaking of flow. . ." Henry began, "that could be critical to getting him back to where he needs to be. According to my research on this shillelagh, you need to remind him of the things that were essentially him. Open water would be a really good start."

"Not a lot of that in New Mexico, unfortunately," Emma answered, taking a big bite of her sandwich. "Sorry I'm chewing in your ear."

Henry chuckled. "Do what you gotta do, mom."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too," Henry answered, before she ended the connection. Emma put her phone down on the table, and ran her free hand through her hair.

"All right, kiddo. Time to remind Killian of who he really is."

###

"The path leads to the left, watch the trail markers painted on the rocks," Killian instructed. "They'll be white so you can see them even in waning light. The ascent will only take about thirty minutes, and I'd advise you to get to the top not much later than that so you don't miss the spectacular sunset. I'll be bringing up the rear and poking the stragglers with a stick," he said, to scattered laughter.

The crowd of a dozen or so started to move to the path, and he watched them pass with only a minor interruption in his focus, which was solely on her. He'd know that cloud of hair anywhere, even though she was putting it up in a ponytail.

He strolled over, trying to look nonchalant, but her face lit up at the sight of him and once again, his insides did an odd little flip.

"Are you sure it's safe for you to be here?" he asked.

She looked immediately offended. "I'm in good shape. And they said this was a beginner-rated trail."

"So it is," he nodded. "But I was referring to your penchant for hurling household goods. I really don't want to get a canteen to the head or anything."

"Are you saying I'm clumsy?"

"I'm saying you don't look like someone who's been hiking in a while," he said, surveying her from head to toe.

Emma raised a brow as she took a drink from her canteen. "I love to hike, but I don't get to do it very often. And since I'm not used to one hundred and five degree afternoons, I figured the sunset walk was the best idea. It took me a couple of days just to get used to the altitude."

"Just take your time," he said. "And if you feel dizzy or short of breath, stop and raise you hand immediately. I'll be nearby."

"That's what I was hoping for." She smiled, and his insides clenched up again.

They started out at a slow walk, and Killian was surprisingly good at what he was doing. He answered questions patiently, and put up with the outrageous flirting of the eight senior women from the local red-hat society. He'd met one of them in a supermarket and won her over by carrying her groceries for her, and they'd booked the tour the following day. Rounding out the group was a family of four from Wisconsin. The father was a bit of a know-it-all and the mother was hovering over their two pre-teen daughters like they were climbing the Empire State Building with suction cups, but Killian bore them with good grace and constant reassurances.

"How high up are we, anyway?" The voice came from behind him as he stopped to point out a jackrabbit to one of the older ladies. He turned with a smile, that faded when he saw how flushed Emma was.

"Are you all right?" He stepped toward her, immediately concerned.

"I'm okay," she said. "Just. . . I'm afraid I might be dragging behind. Go on ahead and I'll catch up."

"I'll do no such thing," he said. "Now sit here on this rock for a moment and drink something. You look flushed." He held his hands cupped around his mouth and called out to the others. "Go on ahead, the rest of you. The top of the mesa is just around that bend. I'll be up directly."

While he was turned away, Emma quickly poured some water into her cupped hand, then pushed it up into her hair at the hairline. She shook her hand out and then lifted the canteen to her lips just as Killian turned around.

"Look at you," he said, eyeing her sternly. "You're perspiring far more than you should be. Drink some more."

"I'm okay," she said again, wondering if she overdid it. Oh well, too late now. "It's still kind of warm out here. Is there more of a breeze up top?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Killian said, helping her slowly to her feet. "That's also the shortest way down at this point. We have jeeps with drivers waiting to take us all back down the other side after the sun sets."

"Then I guess we'd better get a move on." Emma wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Her hair really was sopping wet. "Let's just take it slow, okay?"

He nodded and as she rocked a bit on her heels, he reached out for her hand to steady her. There was a nearly electric jolt as his fingers closed around hers, and he couldn't help sucking in a breath in reaction.

"You okay?" She was looking up at him, and he had the strangest, strongest urge to cup that face, to stroke the line of her jaw with his thumb. He swallowed hard, and somehow found his voice.

"Of course. I just - we need to get moving. Don't want to miss the sunset."

"Lead the way," she said, gesturing with her free hand. And when he started to pull free, she held his hand tight. "I'm keeping this," she said. "Just till I'm standing on flat ground again."

He gave her fingers a squeeze, almost before his brain registered that he was doing so. It felt like it was second-nature, a reflex response so deeply ingrained he couldn't have stopped it even if he'd wanted to. Her hand felt like it belonged in his.

"As you wish," he said, and her startled eyes met his. He felt a wave of deja vu so strong, the edge of a memory tickling at him like an itch that he just couldn't reach.

"Emma. . ." he began. "Do we know each other?"

"I live next door," she reminded him. "We met yesterday."

He gave a short laugh in response. "I know I told you I've had a head injury, but my memory isn't _that_ bad. I remember yesterday. It's just that you seem familiar somehow."

"Have you ever been to Maine?"

Killian looked at her blankly. "I really don't know," he said. "It's possible. But I don't think so. I know I was in New York at one time."

"New York?" she looked intrigued. "How do you know about New York?"

"They ran my fingerprints. I was falsely arrested, apparently."

"By who?"

"The police."

"No, I mean, who tried to press charges?"

He looked nonplussed for a moment. "That's a very good question. D'you know, I never asked."

"You don't remember anything else?" Emma's eyes searched his face, but he only looked confused.

"No."

"Sorry, don't mean to pry. It's just. . .you seem familiar, too."

Killian forced a smile. "Perhaps I knew your husband?"

Emma dropped his hand and started walking. "Don't have one," she called back over her shoulder.

He picked up his pace and fell into step beside her.

"Boyfriend?"

"He's been out of the picture for a while." She wasn't looking at him, but he heard the catch in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just assumed. . .well, a woman as beautiful as you. . . and -"

"It's okay," she said, waving a negligent hand. "I'm used to being on my own. I can handle it."

"I believe you."

"That it?" she gestured to where the path seemed to widen, and the others of the group were slowly coming into view.

"That's it - the top of the mesa. Come on, I'll show you the best spot."

He reached for her hand once again, reveling in the feel of it. He tugged her along to a spot on the western side, and then he moved his fingers to her chin to nudge her gaze just to the left.

"Wow!" she gasped. "The colors!"

"I know," he said. "Everyone thinks the desert out here is just reddish brown with patches of tan, but add the rays of a waning sun and. . .magic."

He added the last word in a hushed tone, and Emma whispered it again for good measure.

"Magic," she breathed. "It's pink over here," she pointed off to the left, then moved her arm to point to the canyon off to their right. "And purple over here."

Killian smiled, nodding. "And as the sun sinks further, that purple deepens to a dark blue, almost as if you're looking into the depths of an endless sea. This is my favorite mesa, for exactly that reason. This canyon becomes something wondrous."

"The way the shadows hit over there," Emma said, moving a little closer. "It's almost a wave-like pattern."

"From the way the rock juts out," Killian said, coming up behind her and moving her pointing arm with his hand, his arm running down along the length of hers. "Just there."

She looked back over her shoulder as his arm slipped around her from behind and her eyes widened at the feel of his breath on her lips.

"Don't want you going over the side," he murmured. "You're still not too steady on your feet."

"No," she whispered, staring at his lips. "No, I guess I'm not."

"So are we done with pictures now?" The Wisconsin woman asked in a loud voice, walking toward them. "It's getting chilly and the girls are hardly dressed for falling temperatures."

"It's gotta be eighty degrees out here," one of the older women called out. "It's not getting below seventy tonight." She shook her head in disgust at the woman, grumbling to her friends about mollycoddling in a rather loud voice.

Killian led Emma back a few paces, then pulled out a flashlight, lit it and waved it back and forth. "Right this way, everyone," he called out. "Each of the three jeeps seats six, so we've plenty of room."

He helped the older women up and into their seats, and then moved to the other jeep to be sure the rest of the women and the family from Wisconsin were taken care of. Emma was just reaching for the door on the remaining jeep when he trotted over.

"Not so fast," he said. "I've got you."

He opened the door, then got behind Emma, putting a firm hand under her elbow and his arm at her lower back as she climbed in the back seat. A moment later, he was around the other side and seated next to her as the driver began to pull away.

"The view on the way down is no less spectacular," he told her, pointing up at the starry sky. "Lean your head back, you'll see what I mean."

Emma did just that, and he was absolutely right. The sky was so clear, and there was so damn much of it. There were more stars out here than she'd ever seen in her life.

"Wow," she said. "I seem to be saying that a lot."

He leaned his head back, but turned it to look at her. "That's easy to do out here. I'm not sure where I was before here, but a sky full of stars is as familiar to me as breathing. I can't imagine you can see a lot of stars in New York."

"But you can at sea," Emma said, turning her head to look at him. "And you were talking about the sea earlier. Like it was familiar. Maybe that's where you should start looking."

"The ocean?" His brow furrowed, and his face was a mask of pained confusion. "No, that doesn't make sense. Why would I have been found walking out of the desert? And which ocean? Atlantic? Pacific?" He shook his head. "Neither one sounds familiar."

Emma tried to look unconcerned. "Just a thought," she shrugged. She set her head back again, letting the soft breeze and the glow of the stars soothe her, and the next thing she knew, a warm hand was sliding around the back of her neck.

"Emma, love. . ."

She smiled, but didn't open her eyes. "Killian. Mmmm. Must've fallen asleep."

"We're back. Do you need me to get someone to drive you back to your apartment?"

Her eyes snapped open as she remembered where she was. "No, I'm okay. Just give me a sec." She struggled to sit up, and Killian aided her, with a hand on her back.

"Take your time." He got out of the jeep and went around to open her door and help her out.

"I'd offer you a ride," Emma said, "But I've got nowhere to put your bike."

"It's all right. It's only a twenty minute ride, and I find I like the feel of the wind on my face."

"I'll bet."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Hey, that was a great tour. I'm glad I came."

"As am I." They stood looking at each other until Killian realized it was becoming awkward.

"Emma -"

"Killian -"

They spoke at the same time, and both gave a laugh.

"Please," Killian said, gesturing. "You first."

"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner tomorrow. That's all."

"Now it's my turn," he said. "How about lunch? I'm taking a group of boys out on an overnight tomorrow, so dinner will have to be another night."

"Okay. Lunch, then. My place at noon."

"Eleven," he corrected.

"You have to leave early?"

"No. I just want to start an hour earlier." He gave her an impish grin and she managed to not throw her arms around him. Just.

"Eleven, then. Goodnight, Killian."

"Goodnight, Emma."

He held the door of her car for her, closing it after she'd climbed in. Then he watched her pull away, and kept on watching until her taillights disappeared into the night.

###

"So all this digging and we still don't know the answer to the most important question. How does a shillelagh ends up in your vault without your knowledge?" Snow asked.

"No one can enter this vault without me knowing it." Regina said. "Not even Henry."

"Then how?"

"The obvious answer would be that Hook wasn't who he seemed to be," Regina said wryly. "But since he's the one who got the blunt end of the stick, so to speak, we're going to have to assume that someone came in behind them."

"Someone who was after Henry." Snow nodded thoughtfully. "But then, why didn't they take him once Killian disappeared? They must have known Killian would have fought them, so they got him out of the way."

"Not if Hook was the target," Regina said, thoughtfully tapping her chin. She paced a little more then turned back to Snow. "Maybe the real target here was Emma."

"Emma? She wasn't even here then."

"No, but Hook wasn't about to let that stand. He was working every single minute to get back to her, wasn't he?"

"What happened over there that made her a target?" Snow asked in alarm.

"It wasn't what happened over _there_ ," Regina said. "You know how she found him, don't you?"

Snow closed her eyes. "The globe."

"The globe," Regina parroted, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall.

Two thousand miles away, Emma turned from the window and ran a hand over her rounded belly.

"Hang in there, kiddo," she said. "We'll get him back, I promise."

She felt a soft kick in response, and eased herself gently down into bed, her hand cupped protectively over their child.


	4. By The Firelight

"These aren't going to fit," John said, tossing the tent poles down on the ground.

"They bend," Killian called over his shoulder. "Put one end in the pocket at the corner."

John looked at him doubtfully. "Won't they break?"

"No, they won't br- Will! Catch that bag - don't let it blow away!" He pointed to the cloth bag that formerly held the tent pegs and was now tossing and tumbling across into the nearby trees. "Jack - help John!"

He returned to pounding in the tent pegs with a mallet while keeping a watchful eye on Will, who seemed determined to lollygag and keep from doing as much work as possible.

"Is it time to eat yet?" Will asked.

"It will be once you earn your meal," Killian told him. "How about loading those sleeping bags into the tent?"

"We're done over here," Jack said, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "I'm glad you picked this place - at least it's shady."

"Yeah," Will said, tossing a sleeping bag into the tent hard enough to rock it. "Thanks for not making us roast our asses in the desert again."

"I'm telling mom you said _ass_ ," John called out.

" _You're_ an ass," Will shot back.

"Boys!" Killian's voice cracked like a whip. "Now that we have our tents up, lets spread the sleeping bags inside so that we aren't doing it in the pitch dark, all right?"

Will grumbled a little under his breath, tossing a sleeping bag at John, who disappeared inside the tent he'd be sharing with Jack. Killian wasn't about to put Will with either boy - that lad needed firm hand and a near-constant amount of supervision.

He fetched a bundle of wood from the pile Billy had left them when he dropped them off, and dumped it into the firepit. Hyde Memorial State Park wasn't exactly roughing it, but it was shady and had toilets and some really beautiful hiking trails. He'd picked it as a good first overnight campout for the boys, but now he wasn't so sure.

Will disappeared inside their tent, and for a moment Killian stared up at the towering pines and listened to the tinkling and swift rush of the Little Tesuque Creek. Once again, a wave of deja vu overtook him as he breathed in the fresh air and put his hand to the bark of a tree. Had he lived near a forest? A forest. . .a forest. . . the cadence of the word played over and over in his mind. But why?

He brought his clenched fist to his forehead, and his eyes shut in frustration. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" Jack asked. "We don't have to do this tonight, you know."

Killian shook his head. "I promised your mother. And I'm all right. I just. . ." he looked up at the tops of the trees again. "This seems familiar."

"You think you've been here before?"

"Not here, exactly. A forest. Somewhere." He pulled in a breath and let out a little laugh. "Sucks to be me once again."

"You want me to start the fire?"

"A capital idea." He handed Jack a pack of matches just as Will and John emerged from their tents.

"You're not going to make us rub two sticks together?" Will snarked.

"Don't tempt me," Killian said with an overly-bright smile. "You get a reprieve as it's nearly dark and we're all hungry. You remember how to set up the fire?"

Will nodded enthusiastically. "TeePee the logs, paper, then kindling on the bottom."

"We toilet paper the logs?" John looked confused.

"TeePee, as in tent, you asstard," Will said, slapping John in the arm. "Not toilet paper."

"Would it kill you to be nice to him?" Jack fumed.

"Jack's right," Killian said, reaching into the cooler and pulling out the pack of hot dogs inside. "You may find a day when you miss your brother keenly."

"Right," Will snorted. "Like that'll happen."

"You want me to die!" John said, his jaw quivering. "Just like Dad!" He turned on his heel and took off running down the path toward the restroom, and Will took off in pursuit.

"Aw, come on, Johnny. . . " his voice carried back, and Jack stood watching them grimly.

"I'd better go get him before he says something worse."

Killian held his arm. "Give them a moment," he said. "Will might feel the need to show more bravado if you're there to chastise him. Why don't you find a few branches we can strip to roast these hot dogs on? And I think your mother sent along some potato salad in the cooler."

Jack gave a reluctant nod and Killian was just reaching for the grocery bag with the hotdog buns when a stream of curse words echoed in the air around them. This was followed by a woman's voice loudly exclaiming:

"Are you kidding me?"

Killian gave John a look, to which John responded with a shrug, and then they both walked around the bend in the path to the neighboring campsite. A tent sat in the middle of the pad area, and the cord-threaded poles were scattered all over. Emma was sitting at a nearby picnic table, holding a hand over her face.

"Emma?" Killian walked over. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" she said, waving a hand at her tent. "I'm camping."

" _You're_ camping?" Jack looked at her swollen belly like she was missing a few screws, and Killian silently agreed with him.

"I was wanting some fresh air," she said, prodding at her eye with careful fingers. "But the tent pole got me in the face."

Killian dropped to his knee and carefully moved her hand away. "You missed the eye," he said, "But just barely. Can you see all right?"

She looked at him with a funny little smile that made his hand tighten around hers. "I'm fine," she said. "I needed to take a break anyway."

"Who's the hot chick?" Will called out as he and John approached.

"You watch your tongue!" Killian snapped. "Apologize to the lady."

"No apology necessary," Emma said, rubbing her belly with a laugh. "When you're this far along, a compliment like that is a special occasion."

"Nevertheless," Killian said in a steely tone, "the boy will apologize for his disrespect."

Jack nudged Will, who mumbled out, "Sorry."

"All hands on deck, lads!" Killian said, rising to his feet. "The lady needs a tent assembled, and as you're all well-acquainted with the process, you can see to it."

Emma looked up at him with a smile. "All hands on deck? Did you used to be in the Navy?"

"As a matter of fact, I -" Killian stared at her a moment, mouth open, and then he closed it. "I'll be damned. I was! I mean, I _think_ I was. I can't remember it, really, but the words came right to my mind when you asked it!"

"That's good, right?" Emma raised her eyebrows.

"It's _very_ good," Killian said, grinning. "Very good indeed."

"Maybe you could look up your Navy records or something," Jack suggested. "If you're a veteran, they'll have a record of you."

"How are you a desert survival expert if you were in the Navy?" Will asked. "And what are we doing with this?" He held up a box.

"That's my air mattress," Emma said. "I'm not sleeping on the hard ground. There's a pump for it that plugs into the cigarette lighter in my car."

She started to get to her feet to show them, but Killian stayed her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You keep resting," he said. "John! Find the pump and plug it in."

Jack took over pegging the tent down as the other two boys saw to the mattress. Killian leaned in so Emma could hear him over the sound of the air mattress pump.

"Why are you out here - really?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Women in your condition rarely trade in a comfortable bed in an air-conditioned apartment for an inflatable mattress in a tent."

Emma shrugged. "I just love the great outdoors," she said demurely. "Besides, fresh air is good for the baby. And me."

"And you just so happened to pick this state park."

"I stopped by your work to thank you for the sunset tour, and Billy told me where you were. He also recommended the park to me, and I figured I'd check it out."

"So you bought a tent, and an air mattress, and brought yourself out here to the wilderness."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Are you trying to get me to admit that I came out here hoping to run into you?"

"Did you?"

"Can't answer that. Pregnant lady needs to use the facilities." She struggled to get to her feet, and Killian put an arm around her, helping her up.

"The facilities are that way," he said, gesturing toward the restroom building, and with a grateful smile, Emma waddled off.

Jack ambled over and stood next to Killian, watching her go.

"So you were in the Navy?"

Killian finally tore his eyes away and nodded down at Jack. "I believe so."

"And you only just remembered that?"

Killian's eyes moved back to follow Emma again. "Only just," he murmured.

"Guess it doesn't suck to be you as much as you think." Jack gave him a friendly punch in the arm before he moved to help his brothers with the air mattress. Killian brought a hand up to rub his chin, as he watched Emma thoughtfully.

###

"I want to thank you again for the dinner invitation," Emma said, stretching her legs out as she shifted in the camp chair. She was getting pleasantly drowsy in front of the fire, and now with the boys down for the night, she had Killian all to herself and she needed to stay awake. She raised her arms over her head, stretching.

"Getting tired?" he asked, with a bit of concern in his tone.

"The fire's making me sleepy, and this chair is surprisingly comfortable. Gotta be careful or I'll end up snoozing here."

She gave a chuckle and shifted forward to grab the mug Killian handed to her.

"My hot cocoa will surely put you under, then," he said. "I make the mix myself from scratch and it's better than anything you'll find on a store shelf."

Emma took a sip and her eyes widened with surprise. "Am I tasting cinnamon?"

"You are," he grinned. "It's my secret weapon. I'm sure that women are powerless to resist it."

"Is that so." She smiled softly as she took another sip. "It really is good."

"Glad you like it."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, and Killian rested his mug on his knee, just watching the play of firelight on her face. He felt it again - the warm familiarity of that moment, as if he'd seen her in firelight before. It was so strong that his mind searched for the edge of the memory, willing it to tilt and show him it's full resolution - but nothing came.

"Emma. . ."

"Hmmm?" She looked over at him, rolling her mug between her hands.

"Do we . . ." he didn't know how to ask without sounding like a lunatic. Of course they hadn't met before. She would surely have mentioned it if they had. "Do you. . ." He paused again, shaking the thought out of his head. She was still looking at him expectantly, so he said the next thing that came to mind.

"Why are you alone?"

He wanted to recall the words the second they crossed his lips, and damned himself for their blunt delivery. Emma just shrugged and took a drink, clearly searching for the right words to answer him with.

"I just am," she said. "Happens to me a lot, actually."

"Forgive me. That was unpardonably rude. It's just - I can't understand why any man wouldn't remain at your side - particularly with a child in the picture."

She set her mug down in the cupholder of the camp chair, and rubbed her belly with her now-warmed palm. "Sometimes, life gets in the way," she said. Then she made a funny huffing sound that was at the same time sad sounding. "Well, my life, anyway," she amended.

"How far along are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't mind." She rubbed her belly again. "I'm due in a little over four weeks."

Killian's eyebrows shot up. "And you're hiking and camping in the wilderness?"

"I've always been an active person," she said. Then she added under her breath, "You have no idea."

"Will he return, the father?" Killian asked. "Before the child is born?"

She stared at him a moment. "I don't know."

He knew he was probably overstepping himself, but he couldn't help it. Something in her eyes was pulling at him, demanding a response. He reached out, closing his hand over hers.

"I know this is terribly forward of me, but. . . if you should need anything - anything at all - I'm only right next door. I'll help in any way that I can."

"It's the least you can do, now that I'm bringing your memory back," she said with a cheeky grin. "And I'm with the kid - how is it you're a navy man teaching desert survival?"

Killian leaned back in his chair with a resigned sigh, his hand slipping off of hers. "I don't know, really. I seem to have a knack for survival situations. My clearest memory was finding myself in the middle of the desert. I was dressed in street clothing, but with no wallet or identification. I was nearly forty miles from anywhere civilized. I walked for four days before they found me, and I'd managed to stay alive in spite of gila monsters, cold nights, and a lack of water."

"That's quite an achievement."

"It was, actually. Billy was the one who found me, and once we'd figured out who I was and that I'd obviously had some sort of trauma, he told me he was impressed with my skills and offered me a job."

"Sounds like a great guy."

"Oh, he is. He can't hike as well now that he's getting older." Killian glanced over toward the tents, but all was quiet. He lowered his voice anyway. "Billy and the boys' father used to take a camping trip together every year, but they lost their father to cancer several months ago. Billy asked me if I'd step in for a week and give the boys some wilderness training."

"Looks like they're enjoying the male bonding," Emma said with a smile. "I feel like I'm intruding now."

"Oh, never think that!" Killian exclaimed. "Tonight's been - well, it's been good for me. The remembering." He opened his mouth as if he were going to say more, but he stopped before he made a babbling fool of himself.

"Well, Navy guy, would you care to escort a lady to her cabin?" Emma put out a hand and Killian jumped to his feet to help her out of the chair. She'd just gotten vertical when she gave a startled squeak and her hand flew to her belly.

"Are you all right?" Killian looked alarmed.

"Fine, fine," she waved him off. "Just got a good, sharp kick. She must like your cocoa."

"You're having a little girl?" His eyes lit up. "And of course she likes it. It's damn near magical."

His smile faltered a bit with the word, and a look of confusion flittered across his face, replaced by the smile again. Emma reached out, pulling his hand to her stomach.

"Want to feel?"

Killian looked taken aback, but he didn't move his hand. "I - yes, if you don't mind."

"Right. . .there," Emma said, pressing his hand down gently. And answering nudge met his fingertips, and he chuckled in response. "She's strong." He looked down at Emma. "Like her mother."

"She likes you."

"Well, she has excellent taste." He cocked a brow and it was all Emma could do not to lean in and kiss him. She managed to hold back - just.

"Come on, Captain Handsome," she said. "Help me roll onto an air mattress. And if you could come back in the morning, I'd appreciate that, too."

"If you need anything in the night, just call out," Killian said. "The night air carries sound - I'll hear you."

"We all hear you," Will's voice called out from the tent. "It's okay if you want to sleep in her tent, Mr. J."

Killian leveled a look of displeasure that Will couldn't see, and Emma put a hand to her mouth to cover her grin. He put a steadying hand under her elbow, guiding her down the path.

"I'll be back in the morning," he murmured. "And I mean it - I'm not far away."

She looked up at him, and in the moonlight, her eyes were luminous.

"I'm counting on that," she said.


	5. Dinner Date

"So. . .how are things?"

Emma repositioned the phone under her ear so she could scoop salad from the takeout container into a bowl.

"I'm making my famous chicken parm and spaghetti," she replied.

"You mean Granny's famous chicken parm - that you got the recipe for." Regina's voice carried through the phone. "Should have gone with lasagna. I could have helped you there."

"No time for that. I didn't even use Granny's recipe. I bought this at a restaurant on the way home and I'm reheating."

"Am I right in assuming this is all part of the plan?"

"The camping trip was a good start, but I couldn't keep up," Emma said. "They helped me pack up this morning and we parted ways not long after. I did get him to promise to come for dinner."

"Henry said you already had a lunch date."

"Yeah, that was the day before the campout. I made him grilled cheese and french fries and spiked his Gatorade with memory-restoring potion. No luck."

"Maybe you should have tried rum."

"He doesn't drink."

"He doesn't drink?" Regina's voice was loud enough that Emma probably could have heard her without the phone.

"There's a lot about him that's a surprise here," Emma replied, pulling a tray of garlic bread out of the oven and lowering the temperature to "warm" for the chicken. "I've gotten him curious about his unexplained life, but that's about as far as it goes."

"You've got to get moving on this," Regina said. "You're running out of time."

"If I have to have the baby here, then that's what I'll do," Emma said firmly. "He'll be here for me, even if he doesn't realize the baby is his."

"You're sure of that?"

"I'm sure."

"That's good, because you need to come home. Bring him with you, but you need to get back here before that baby puts in an appearance."

Emma dropped the wooden spoon in her sauce and gave the phone her full attention. "What aren't you telling me, Regina?"

"We know where the shillelagh came from. Henry found a mention of it in one of the storybooks. The most recent owner was a fairy - The Black Fairy, to be precise."

"What the hell kind of grudge does the Black Fairy have against Killian?"

"I think it's far more likely that he's just collateral damage. You've got a bun in the oven and that's her specialty."

Emma leaned back against the counter, her hand fluttering over her belly. "She wants our baby?"

"I wouldn't rule it out," Regina said. "So watch your back and then get your ass back here before baby Jones makes an appearance."

"I'm doing my best. It's just slow going." Emma let out a sigh as she pushed her hair off her forehead. "How do you remind a guy of who he is when he's so far from all of that now? I hardly know this Killian."

"Maybe that's your problem," Regina replied. "Get to know what makes this Killian tick. Find the common things."

"You're right." Emma paused, digesting that for a moment. "I'm trying to hard to get him to see who he should be, I'm not relating it to who he is. I've been working up a list-"

She cut off with the sound of a knock on the door.

"That's him," she said, running over to push the takeout containers further down in the trash. "I gotta go."

"Move fast," Regina reminded her. "We need to get you home where I can watch your back."

"I'm on it."

Emma ended the call and rushed over to the door, stopping herself and smoothing her hair before she opened it.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Come on in."

"I was going to bring wine," Killian said, "But your condition precludes that. I brought chocolate cake instead."

He pulled a small bundt cake, still in a bakery box, from behind his back. Emma's eyes widened.

"My mouth is watering so hard," she said, taking it from him and walking it into the kitchen as he stepped inside and closed the door. "If you weren't here, I'd probably eat the whole thing before dinner. And then eat dinner, too."

"Don't stand on decorum because of me," he said. "Have a piece if you'd like."

She shook her head, laughing. "No, I've worked to hard on this dinner. It deserves my full attention." She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Well, most of my attention."

Killian's eyes brightened and she flushed a lovely color before she turned back around, sliding on her oven mitts and reaching in to remove the chicken.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, glancing down at the already-set table.

"Um. . . garlic bread?" Emma asked, pointing to it. "Can you get it into a bowl for me? There should be some right over your head in the cupboard."

Killian made short work of getting the bread sorted, then carried it and the salad over to the table as Emma carefully set the chicken parmesan and spaghetti down in the center of the table.

"What are you drinking?" she asked. "I have lemonade and water."

"Lemonade is fine," he replied, pulling out a chair for her. "And I'll get it. You sit down."

"It's fine, I can -"

"I'm sure you can," he said with a gentle hand on her shoulder to push her down. "But you're sitting down. You've gone to entirely too much trouble as it is."

He made his way to the fridge, pouring out two glasses of lemonade before he joined her.

"Now," he said, smoothing his napkin onto his lap as Emma served him a portion of chicken. "How was the rest of your day, after we parted?"

"Uneventful," Emma said, helping herself to the chicken. "There's not a lot of adventure when you look like a beach ball."

"Oh, you're not so large as that," Killian said gallantly. "I'd have never known you were that far along. You carry it well."

"Thanks." She shoved a bite of chicken in her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head. "Mmmmm."

"It's really good," Killian agreed, shoveling in a mouthful of spaghetti. "Even better than Renaldo's, down the street."

"Renaldo's?" Emma gave him a blank smile. "I'll have to try theirs sometime."

"Don't bother. Not nearly as good as yours." Killian savored a bite of chicken. "You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

"No biggee," she shrugged. "So how was your day out with the boys? Did you get a lot of hiking done?"

"Not really. An hour in, Will decided to shimmy up a tree and jump down on Jack, who threw him off into a patch of what ended up being poison ivy."

"Oh no!"

"He got no less than he deserved," Killian said, waving off her concern. "The lad is lucky I didn't let his brother give him the bruising he was courting."

"You're good with them," she said. "And you're really a good nature guide. You had to have had some experience. From before, I mean."

"Quite probably," Killian said. "I seem to know how to survive in multiple situations. Which came in handy when I was marooned in the desert."

"I'll bet." Emma pushed her salad around on her plate, thinking. "Hey," she began. "I looked up your name on the internet - the archives for the British Navy. I didn't find anything."

"British?

"You've got the accent," Emma pointed out. "But that could also be some other country. I'm not a world traveler - a lot of accents sound the same to me. So maybe it's another land that you're from originally."

"Perhaps," he said, shrugging. "I can't remember a thing. Not a bloody thing."

"Like, you woke up and suddenly, there you were? Did your head hurt? Were you bleeding?"

He looked up at her, as if chewing over his answer. Finally, he said quietly: "I was drunk."

"Drunk?" Emma leaned in. "Are you sure?

"I may not remember much of my previous life, but I know what drunk feels like. I also had a flask in my possession - empty, but still smelling of alcohol." He grimaced. "So now you know why I don't drink. Whatever the hell I was doing in my drunken state, it foolishly cost me my memories. And considering I had charges pressed against me in New York before that and was considered a vagrant there - It's not much of a stretch to assume that alcohol may have played into a life I'm better off not remembering."

Emma's hand closed over his. "You don't know that. Everybody makes mistakes, Killian. Everybody."

His hand turned, and he threaded his fingers through hers. "Emma," he said. "It's not your fault."

"Huh?"

"Being pregnant - and alone. It's not a mistake. Certainly not your fault. Whoever he was, he was a fool to leave a woman like you."

Emma's eyes widened and she pulled her hand from his to sit back. She rubbed her belly slowly. "I wasn't talking about me. My baby is _not_ a mistake."

"Forgive me. I meant no offense. It's clear you'll make fine mother."

"Heh." She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "The jury's still out on that one. But I was talking about you. Just because you were drunk doesn't mean you did something horrible, you know. You could have been at a friend's birthday party. Or toasting a birth announcement."

"I suppose," he agreed, without any real enthusiasm. "But we'll never know, will we?"

"And New York was a while ago - and you don't know those circumstances either. You're clearly not a hardened criminal if a dropped charge is all they had on you."

"As you pointed out - I may not be from this country."

"Your fingerprints would be on Interpol, too, you know," she said, reaching across to squeeze his hand again. "I'm just saying - an empty flask and a foggy head doesn't say anything about you as a person. It's just a clue, and for all we know, a good one."

"And how's that?" Killian asked, twirling the last of his spaghetti around his fork.

Emma tapped her chin, contemplating. "They say that sensory triggers are some of the most powerful when it comes to memory. Smells, sounds. . . and taste. Maybe the simple act of taking a drink from your flask will help you remember something."

"I drink from it all the time," he said. "I use it as a canteen on my shorter hikes and walks. Nothing so far."

"No, I mean a _drink_ drink." Emma pushed herself awkwardly to her feet, and Killian caught her by the elbow, assisting her the rest of the way.

"Don't jump up like that," he chided. "Let me know what you're looking for and I'll fetch it."

Emma nodded, leaning against the back of her chair. "In that cupboard over the microwave. There's a bottle."

Killian strode over, opening the cupboard and pulling the bottle out. "It isn't labeled. Home brew?"

"You might say that," Emma smiled. "It was a housewarming gift from a friend - at the last place I lived. He said it was always lucky to take a shot of rum as soon as you crossed the threshold."

"And you brought the bottle with you here?" Killian raised a brow.

"I'm not going to be pregnant forever, you know," Emma answered. "And it's good rum."

"So you think if I take a drink of this rum from my flask, I'll suddenly be triggered into remembering my less-than-desirable past."

"Or maybe your very desirable past. It's worth a try, isn't it? What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" He snapped the words out, and regretted his tone immediately. "Forgive me. I know you're only trying to help. It's just. . . I really don't. . ."

Emma stepped closer, reaching up to touch his face. "You're afraid if I knew who you really were, I'd look at you differently."

"Or I will."

"You're _you_ , Killian. Whoever you were, it wasn't wiped out by who you are. The things that make you fundamentally good and caring and smart and resilient - those things don't fade away or do an about-face. They're a part of every bit of you. Believe that. I do."

She set the bottle down on the table. "If you're not comfortable giving it a try, that's fine. I understand your reasons. And I'm here to support you any way I can, just like you are."

He gave her a very endearing, somewhat crooked little smile. "Well," he said, looking down at the bottle. "I don't suppose one little drink would hurt."

"You have the flask with you?" Emma asked, taking the cork from the rum bottle.

"In my back pocket," he said, reaching for it to pull it out. Emma took it from his fingers, unstoppering the top and holding it steady. Killian reached out, wrapping his hand around the bottle, and for a moment, he froze.

"What?" Emma asked, eyeing him warily.

"It's. . .it's nothing." He picked the bottle up, tilting it as he looked at it in the light, feeling the heft of it in his hand. There was something. . .something there in the weight of it, the feel of the glass against his palm. He shoved down the tide of self-loathing he usually courted, and just let himself feel the thing. Maybe Emma was right - he had no business passing judgement on his previous life when he had no real proof to back it up. Perhaps he should stop trying to fill in the blanks and just savor it when he _did_ feel something familiar.

And this was familiar. Just as Emma, somehow, was familiar. He wasn't going to analyze it any further than that. He poured a small amount from the bottle into the flask, letting the hollow ring of the liquid splashing inside strum across his memories. Emma took the bottle, handing him the flask.

"Bottom's up," he said cheekily, and her answering smile gave him the courage he needed to tip the flask to his lips, and drink.

It was probably only an instant, but it was an instant full of sounds and smells and sights - clear, salty air, wood and leather, the green of a jungle and the feel of a hand clutching his chest. Flames and cold darkness. The curve of a wheel beneath his fingers, and -"

"Augh!" He brought his hand to his face, dropping the flask as he sunk to his knees.

"Killian!" Emma dropped down next to him as gracefully as she could - which was not at all - and ended up bumping him, hard. He brought an arm around her to steady her, but his hand remained over his face, rubbing.

"Ah, it was there!" He said. "So much of it was there - but it's gone now."

"You saw something?" Emma's eyes searched his face. "What did you see?

He brought his hand down, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm not sure. I smelled - wood. And there was water. A ship, I think. And a woman's face."

"Was it Milah?" Emma blurted out.

Killian's eyes widened. "How the devil do you know about Milah?"

Emma backtracked, stammering a bit. "I. . .uh. . . you've got that tattoo. You know, Navy guys and their tattoos. I assumed she was an ex-girlfriend."

Killian turned his wrist over, looking at it. "I've had no luck there, either," he murmured. "There's no one with that name anywhere around here - or associated with me in New York."

"Well, hey! You remembered something," Emma said. "That's a start, right? A ship, the way it smelled. The water. Those are all pretty specific."

"They are indeed." He looked over at her. "We'd better get you back up."

Emma let out a little laugh. "Or just roll me over and let me sleep here. After all that chicken parm, I'm ready to start snoring."

He helped her up to her feet. "Well, then I'll leave you to turn in early," he said, retrieving his flask.

"Wait!" Emma followed him to the door in confusion. "Is everything okay? We still haven't had the cake."

"It's fine," he said. "I'm fine. Just feel a headache coming on. Perhaps the rum wasn't such a good idea after all. Goodnight, Emma."

He stepped out the door, closing it behind him, and walked on unsteady legs back to his own apartment. Once he'd shut the door, he leaned against it heavily, holding his flask up near his nose, smelling the lingering scent of rum. The memory wafted forward again, a tendril this time, instead of an onslaught.

The water. A pain in his chest. Cold, impenetrable darkness. Heat.

He closed his eyes, willing the rest of it forth.

The ship. A jungle. And a woman's face in both places.

Emma.

Somehow, he was sure of it. Which meant she was hiding something.


	6. Known

"Go on," Lou Ann said, nudging John forward.

The boy took a few shuffling steps, extending his hand. "Thank you for hanging with us this week," he mumbled.

Killlian smiled, shaking the boy's hand. "It was my pleasure," he said, giving a nod to Lou Ann. "You're a fine bunch of hooligans. I quite enjoyed myself."

Lou Ann gave Will a prod on the shoulder and he stepped forward as well, also extending a hand. "Sorry we gave you such a hard time."

"No you're not," Killian said, shaking the hand.

"No, I'm not," Will agreed. "Mom made me say it."

"Will!" His mother rebuked.

"You are such an ass," Jack interjected. He stepped forward as well, but when Killian grasped his hand, Jack pulled him in for a quick hug. "Thanks for everything, Mr. J.," he said. "Hope we can see you around."

"Oh, I expect you will," Killian said, patting Jack on the back. "You've got a real talent for trail work, and a love of the land that will serve you well."

"It's all he talks about," Lou Ann said, giving Jack's hair a fond ruffle. "He's thinking about getting a job so he can afford some gear."

"I got some gear in the back," Billy said from behind the counter. "It's got some wear on it, but it's still in mostly good shape. Why don't you go pick out what you want."

Lou Ann looked surprised and pleased as Jack let out a whoop, running for the back. Will and John followed close behind, with shouts of "I wanna look!" and "Wait for me!"

"Oh Billy," she said, coming around the counter to give the man a hug. He reddened, and his hand lingered on her shoulder.

"It's nothin'," he said, shrugging it off. "They're good boys."

A clatter sounded somewhere in the back and Lou Ann's eyes widened in alarm. "I better get back there and make sure they're tearing things apart." She leaned in and kissed Billy's cheek, then hurried off through the door calling, "Boys!"

Billy watched her go, and when he finally turned back around, Killian was leaning against the desk, arms folded across his chest, and one eyebrow cocked.

"What?" Billy asked, not quite meeting that knowing look.

"Those boys need a father," Killian said.

Billy made a face. "They had a father. He was my best friend. It's only been eleven months since he died."

"Those boys already consider you a father figure. And I see the way you look at Lou Ann."

"I'm just concerned about her, is all. She's the wife of my best friend."

"She's a widow," Killian pointed out. "And even though your friend never intended to be missing from her life - or the lives of his children - you feel a sense of debt to his memory. I know that feeling."

"You do?" Billy looked at him in surprise.

"I do." Killian was feeling a little surprised himself. It was a revelation to him as well, but the truth of it was undeniable. He _did_ know how that felt. He had no idea _how_ he knew, but he knew.

"But there's more than that going on," Killian continued. "You're drawn to her. And it's not just a sense of obligation that's drawing you. What's more, she's noticing you, as well."

Billy eyed him warily. "Ya think?"

"I do. She may not know what to do with that yet, and like you, she may feel that her late husband stands between you. But I have a feeling if you both move slowly, and remain open to your possibilities, you may just find that his memory can be a warm place that the two of you can share." Killian looked down at the floor, lost in the feeling that washed over him. A flash of a young man's face - not much older than young Will - flickered for a moment, and once again, he saw Emma, right behind the boy.

And somehow, he knew Emma belonged behind that boy.

"Well," Billy said. "I s'pose even a pompadour like you might be right once in a while."

"Right about what?" Will asked, stepping through the doorway. He had a length of climbing rope wrapped several times around his neck.

"What the hell?" Billy walked over and started unwinding him. "Sometimes, Will, you don't have the sense God gave kitchen faucet."

"Tell me about it," Lou Ann commiserated, as she helped the other boys lug an armload of camping gear.

"It was slipping off my arm!" Will said.

"Excuse me?"

They turned in unison to see Emma at the door. She pinned on a bright smile and gave Killian a wave.

"Uh, I was here for the sunset walk the other day and I have a question about some of the plant life we saw."

"What was it you were wanting to know?" Billy started to come around the counter, but Lou Ann stopped him with a hand on his arm and a slight shake of her head.

Billy gave her a questioning look and she inclined her head toward Killian, whose eyes were firmly on Emma.

"Let's get some rucksacks for this stuff," Billy said, herding the boys toward the back room. "Killian can help you out," he said, then he ushered everyone into the back room and shut the door.

"Was I that obvious?" Emma asked, smiling.

Killian pushed off the desk and began brusquely shuffling and stacking papers on the counter.

"If you want to speak with me, you can knock on my door later," Killian said. He didn't look up.

Emma stepped closer, giving him a long, searching look.

"You're angry."

"Very astute," he snapped, shoving the papers into a folder, and then striding over to lay the folder on the desk. "I would suggest that you go home."

"Home?" Emma leaned on the counter, not entirely sure what was going on.

"Yes," he said, finally turning to look at her. The look he leveled made her take an involuntary step back. "Home. Would that be here in Santa Fe? Or do you prefer New York?"

Emma went deathly still. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you tell me _?_ " He slammed one of the desk drawers. "If I'd ever bothered to learn your last name, I might have put it together. But it wasn't until I borrowed Billy's computer today and I looked up my old arrest record again. It turns out the person who pressed charges against me was you."

"I don't think -"

"I remember you, Emma. It's not much - a glimpse of your face, and a memory of my being shackled, and shouting your name. _Swan_."

Emma swallowed hard. "Okay. It's a start."

"Would you care to elaborate? Clearly I've been locked up before. And you had something to do with it."

"It wasn't what you think."

"You're a bail bondsman."

"Bonds _person_ ," she interrupted. "And how did you find that out?"

"Your website is still active, though the number's been disconnected." He crossed his arms and stared at her. "The pregnancy was a great trick - you completely sucked me in with the damsel in distress routine."

Emma's eyes widened. "You think I'm _faking_?"

"You're here to bring me in, aren't you? The only question is: what are you waiting for?"

"I'm not here to take you in," Emma said. "And I'm _not_ faking my pregnancy. You felt the baby kick."

"I thought I did. I'm sure you have all sorts of tricks up your sleeve to distract a man."

Emma stared at him. "You are certifiably nuts."

She turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving a stunned Killian behind her. He quickly scrambled around the counter, racing out the door after her. He skidded to a stop at her car, just as she was opening the door.

"Wait!"

She stopped with her hand on the door but didn't face him.

"Emma. . . " He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't expecting this kind of reaction."You owe me an explanation."

"Not now, I don't."

"Now is the perfect time."

She turned suddenly. "I mean it, Killian. Right now, I am a pregnant woman and my blood pressure is skyrocketing. We'll have this conversation later."

"You're angry?"

"Oh yes, I'm angry." She eased herself into the front seat, and paused a moment with her hand on her belly, taking a few panting breaths.

Killian dropped down on one knee next to her. "Are you all right?"

"Now you're concerned?" She puffed, then she sucked in a breath and let it out in a long, slow stream. "As you can see, I'm _not_ faking a pregnancy."

Killian pressed his lips together in self-disgust. "No, I can see that you're not. That was a foolish thing to say. I let my anger get the better of me."

"Yeah, well, it splashed over onto me, too. I think it's best if we just table this conversation for now. I need to get off my feet and calm the hell down."

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" He started to reach out his hand, then pulled it back.

"I want to go home." She turned the key in the ignition. "Can you close the door please? I need to get out of here."

"We need to talk, Emma."

"Later."

She reached past him for the door handle, and he finally got out of the way. Once the door was closed, she put the car in gear and drove away, leaving him staring after her, wondering what the hell was going on.

He felt a hand settle on his shoulder and looked over at young Jack.

"Sucks to be you again?"

Killian nodded, still watching the yellow Bug as it pulled out onto the main road.

###

"He's remembering," Emma said, pinning the phone against her shoulder as she moved the gearshift. "He remembered my name. And that we were on top of the beanstalk."  
"That's great!" Henry's voice came in response. "So - you're coming home?"

"Not yet." Emma sighed. "He doesn't remember where he was when it happened. He looked me up on the internet and now he thinks I'm a bail-bondsperson who's trying to bring him in."

"So he's on the run?"

"No. . . I am." Emma pulled into the parking space at the apartment and turned the car off. "He knows enough to keep him curious. He's going to want to know more, but he needs to calm down first. And so do I."

"You were fighting?"

"He was spoiling for one, but I refused to oblige," Emma said, rubbing her belly. "Now we wait. Anymore word from your end?"

"Yeah," Henry said. "We think the Black Fairy is in Storybrooke. The day Killian went missing, I met a new refugee - I thought she was from the Land of Untold Stories, so I made plans to meet up with her and get some information. She never showed."

"You think she was following you two?"

"We're not sure yet. Grandpa and I are going door-to-door asking around."

"What about Regina? What does she think?"

"She putting together a spell to track dark magic. We should have some answers soon."

"Soon would be good." She gave a start as the baby kicked. "I gotta go. If I don't eat something soon this kid is going to bust out just to get some food."

"Love you. Come home soon."

"I'm working on it."

She puffed her way up the stairs, and after eating half a box of macaroni and cheese, she settled back on the couch, flipping mindlessly through the channels and waiting.

And waiting.

She dozed for a while, and woke with a start at the sound of someone slamming a car door in the parking lot below. Her bleary eyes managed to focus on the clock, and she realized with dismay that she'd been sleeping for hours, not minutes. It was ten o'clock, and she had a bad ache in her lower back and a crick in her neck from her awkward position on the couch.

"Sorry, kiddo," she said, rubbing her belly. "Guess I overplayed my hand. We'll try again tomorrow. Promise."

She pulled herself to her feet, stumbling a little with the fog of sleep still holding onto her. She kept a steadying hand on the wall as she moved down the hallway to the bathroom. A hot shower would help her back, and she felt immeasurably better afterward. She was just toweling off when she heard the knock at the door.

Emma shoved her hands into the sleeves of her robe, belting it tight around her as she pushed her wet hair out of her face. She left the chain on the door, and opened it a crack.

"Killian?"

He stood silhouetted in the harsh overhead light on the outdoor walkway. His hair was matted and damp, and his shirt was soaked in perspiration. He looked up at her as she opened the door wider.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've been riding all night," he said. His hand came up, as if to reach for her, then he clenched it into a fist. "I don't remember much. But I know I remember you."

"And. . . ?" She waited.

His hand came out again, gently and tentatively touching and settling on her stomach, right through the folds of her robe. She looked up at him, but his eyes were on his fingers, and swell beneath them.

"She's mine," he whispered hoarsely. "Isn't she? The baby is mine."

His eyes slid back up to meet hers, and the hopefulness in them made it hard for her to get the words out. She brought her hand up, sliding over his.

"She's yours."


	7. A Leap Of Faith

"That's the last of the houses in town," David said, crossing a square off the map he had spread across his desk at the sheriff's office. "No one knows anyone named Sorcha."

"And she never set foot in the convent," Henry added. "We've already verified that. No one in town has met anyone from Agrabah other than Aladdin and Jasmine, either."

"So that pretty much means Sorcha is The Black Fairy. But why not just steal the amulet?" David asked. "She could have kept Emma in the other realm until she gave birth and gotten her there."

"Maybe she couldn't get to the other realm?" Henry surmised. "And even if she could, my Mom was right - Killian would have stood between her and the baby. She'll have enough to battle just going up against my mom."

"So here's the big question," David said, drumming his fingers on the table. "Can the Black Fairy leave Storybrooke? Would we be better off keeping Emma out of town?"

"We need Blue," Henry said.

David nodded. "We need Blue." He strode over to the door, but just as he was opening it, Blue pushed from the other side.

"I came as soon as I heard your request," Blue said, breezing into the room.

"That was fast." Henry said.

"I was nearby. Has there been any word from Emma?"

"Nothing new," David said. "Killian still has no idea who he is, and we're running out of time. What we need to know is whether or not the Black Fairy can get out of Storybrooke."

"She can," Blue said regretfully. "Which means Emma isn't safe anywhere, but as long as the Fairy doesn't know where she is, we're buying time. I assume she's on her way back?"

"No. She's on her way to San Diego." Henry opened up a map of the United States, tracing it with his finger. "We think it might help Killian remember faster if we can get him to the ocean. That's the closest point from where they are."

Blue nodded. "It's as good a plan as any," she said. "He's been on the sea for centuries."

"And once he's got some memory back, the next step is bringing them home," David said, reaching for the map to fold it up. "Emma says she won't come back until he's himself again."

"This must be very hard for her," Blue said, her eyes full of sympathy. "Is she well? The stress can't be good for the baby."

"She's holding up," David said. "She's made of strong stuff."

"She is. As are her parents." She gave them both a smile and walked to the door. "Keep me informed, will you? I've got all the sisters keeping watch. If the Black Fairy returns, we'll know about it."

David called out a thank you as he followed her out the door, and he and Henry climbed into his truck. They pulled up at the loft apartment a few minutes later and didn't speak until they were safely behind the door.

"Did she follow you?" Regina asked.

"Can't tell," Henry answered. "But we didn't say anything just to be safe."

"A good strategy," said Blue, coming out from the living room. "You're safer talking here, under Regina's protection spell."

"Well, now that she's taken the bait, how long will it take her to realize they're not headed west?" David asked.

"Uncertain," Blue shook her head. "But it did buy her some time. Let's hope it's enough."

"We can't just stand around here, hoping for the best while that black-winged harpy tries to sink her talons into that baby," Regina snapped. "We need to get her home as fast as possible."

"And how do we do that?" David asked. "Emma already called the airlines - they won't allow her to fly without a doctor's note at this stage of her pregnancy. And as far along as she is, she's not going to make great time on the road. It'll be a few days, at least."

"That's if she can even talk Killian into coming," Henry said.

"She'll take him at gunpoint if she has to," David reminded him. "But it's still going to take a while."

"We need to shorten their road trip," Regina said. "And I think I know how we can get Killian to help us."

###

Emma sat the cocoa down on the table in front of Killian, but he didn't move to take it.

"It's not homemade, but it does have cinnamon," she said apologetically. "It's still pretty good."

He looked up at her and made a slight huffing sound. "I was actually hoping for rum this time."

"Got you covered," she said, with a sympathetic smile. She headed back to the cupboard and grabbed the bottle, not bothering with a glass. She uncorked it and handed it to him, watching as he took a healthy draught. He set the bottle down on the table as she took a seat at the table across from him.

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded. "A bit." He closed his eyes as memories flashed before him again. A darkened street, lightning crackling. A wall of ice. Emma, shivering in his arms, and not in a good way.

He opened his eyes to find her looking at him, her eyes searching his.

"You remembered again."

"Some." He reached for the bottle, taking another drink, but nothing more came to his mind. "You have no idea how frustrating this is. To see only bits and pieces, to feel that you must know _something_ , but it won't come."

Emma wrapped her hands around her mug, rolling it between her palms. "Actually, I do. I do know exactly how that feels."

He looked at her curiously. "You've lost your memory, as well?"

"I did once. Someone helped me remember who I was, though."

"Do you know what happened to me?"

"Yes." She took a drink of her cocoa, trying to figure out how she was going to frame all this. "First, I have a question for you. What do you remember? About me?" Her hand went down to her belly, rubbing. "About us?"

"Not much. As I said, it's only flashes of scenes, like I fell asleep during a movie and I can only remember a few times that I opened my eyes. The scenes are without context. Confusing. But what I feel. . ." He bit his lip, closing his eyes as if in pain. "I don't remember anything about her conception, but I know to the marrow of my bones that the baby is mine.  I don' t know how that is, it just. . . is."

"Sorry you skipped the conception," Emma said with a smirk. "It was pretty damn terrific."

Killian gave her an answering chuckle. "Glad to hear I acquitted myself well. Now I'm really frustrated at not remembering."

"It'll come," Emma said, reaching out to cover his hand. "I've got a plan."

"Is this what happened to you?" he asked, turning his hand over to twine his fingers with hers. "Whatever happened to me?"

"Yes, and no." Emma licked her lips, thinking. "I have a lot to fill you in on, and some of it is going to sound just plain crazy. I mean really, really crazy," she amended as his brows rose.

"Losing six months of my life with no explanation is crazy," Killian said, taking another drink of rum. He set the bottle back on the table and pushed it to the side. "Go ahead. Any explanation is better than the hell I've been living. Do you know, I dreamed about you? I could never see your face, but once you arrived, I suddenly could. I told myself I just had a crush on you and was therefore inserting you into those dreams, but that's not what happened at all, is it?"

"No. Some part of you remembers, even under - uh - extreme circumstances."

"And what were they, exactly?"

His eyes were leveled on her, and she wanted more than anything to just wrap herself around him, but she had to take this slow. There was no magic potion that could cure him in an instant, as he'd used on her before. This wasn't the same kind of magic.

"You weren't injured," she began slowly, choosing her words with care. "What happened to you was magic." She winced as she said the word, but he continued to stare at her, as if waiting. Finally, recognition began to dawn in his eyes.

"You really mean that. You think this was paranormal? Was I abducted by aliens?" He looked at her in disbelief.

"Not little green men. Or ghosts. It was more like. . ." What? She couldn't tell him a glittery black fairy tossed him into the desert with the help of an enchanted Irish shillelagh. She was just starting to make headway, here.

"Let me rephrase that," she started over. "I meant to say there's no scientific explanation for what happened to you. I only know that it did. And I'm here to help you remember. There are people where I come from that said the best way to do that is to remind you of who you were before all this happened. So I'm here to do that."

"Where you come from? You mean New York?"

"No." Emma shook her head. "I was in New York a few years ago, when I'd lost my memory. You came to the city to find me. I didn't remember you at first, so I tried to have you locked up. You scared me, because you seemed familiar, but you were spouting nonsense. Sound familiar?"

"I don't think you're spouting nonsense. But I do wonder why you won't just come out with it. What have I done that was so terrible you can't tell me?"

Emma's brow creased with concern. "Nothing." She grasped their hands between both of hers and squeezed. "Nothing, Killian. You're a good man. You're the father of our child."

"And I abandoned you." His mouth was set in a grim line.

"No, no you didn't." Emma shook her head vehemently. "You would never do that. Ever. You were taken from me before I had a chance to tell you I was pregnant. I only just found out where you were."

"Who told you? Was it the person responsible?" His eyes flared. "Are you in danger?"

 _There's my Killian_ , she thought. _Oh, you're in there, all right._ "Right now, the priority is you," she said evasively. "Nothing's going to make sense until we get you back to who you were. And maybe we can start with this."

She reached down into the pocket of her robe, and placed his hook right in the center of the table.

He stared at it strangely, tilting his head to one side. "Is that. . .?"

"Yours? Yes." She pushed herself slowly to her feet, giving her belly an absent-minded rub.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Sit back down, I can get whatever it is."

"You don't need to pamper me," Emma said over her shoulder. "I'm feeling pretty good tonight." She opened a drawer, reaching inside, and pulled out his cuff, setting it on the table next to the hook. "It all goes together. Try it on."

He picked the hook up, dangling it from his fingers. "It's a little old-fashioned, don't you think?"

"You're a little old-fashioned," she said with a slight smile. "It suits you."

"All right." He picked up the cuff, feeling the warm familiarity of the leather in his hand, the grooves and the give of it as he fastened it on his arm. He picked up the hook, watching the light gleam off the metal as he pushed it into the socket, and almost without thought he gave it a turn, locking it in place.

"See there?" Emma commented. "You do remember."

He lifted his arm, and it felt - well, it felt right. The weight of it was comfortable, steady. The hook was an extension of his arm, and he gave it a few test swipes in the air, feeling the pull of his muscles as he maneuvered. He closed his eyes as a wave of memories tumbled over him.

_The hook, laying on the deck, the pain of his bleeding stump._

_The hook, sinking into flesh, into necks and bellies, ripping through skin and lodging in bone. He heard the screams, echoing, the dying gurgles as the air bled out of so many, many men._

_The hook, plunging into a girl's chest, ripping out her heart. . ._

"No!" He shouted, jumping to his feet. He wrenched the hook out of its socket, tore off the cuff, and hurled them both against the wall. "No," he panted, bringing his fist up to his temple. "I saw. . . blood. And death." His tortured eyes met Emma's. "What sort of a man was I?"

She came around the table, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. "You're not that man anymore."

"But I was." His voice was full of self-loathing, and he wouldn't look at her. Emma wasn't having any of that. She reached up, gently moving the lock of hair that fell across his forehead.

"Listen to me," she said. "Everybody's got a past. I have one that I'm not especially proud of. You and I - we understood each other. We'd both been alone too long. And when we found each other, things began to change. I found my family. I found myself. And then I found you."

He looked down at her, shell-shocked, not even sure what to say or if he could even form words. He only knew the touch of her hand felt like home. He leaned down hesitantly, giving her every opportunity to push him away, which was odd, really. He'd obviously been intimate with her before, but as familiar as this was, it also felt new, and he didn't want to upset her.

She stood absolutely still as his lips brushed hers, once, twice, and then she leaned in, sliding her arms around his neck, holding him as close as her rounded body would allow, pressing into him as she returned and deepened the kiss. It was like someone had thrown a match into dry tinder, igniting something deep in his belly. He pulled her in - probably too tightly - but he couldn't have stopped himself if the room were on fire. It certainly felt like it was.

He was devoured by the feelings rushing through him - a direct counterpoint to the darkness he'd felt before. This was Emma. . . Emma . .  Emma. . . his mind chanted it over and over in a litany as his lips slanted and moved over hers. Pictures flashed through his memory, of them sitting at an outdoor cafe, standing in a jungle, laying on a couch. . . even in a graveyard? His mind flitted over that, noting it was odd, but he was too consumed by the feel of her to care.

The kiss would have gone on endlessly if it weren't for Emma, letting out a yelp and taking an involuntary step back.

"The baby," she said apologetically. Then she looked up. "Killian?" she asked hopefully.

He brought a hand down, settling it lightly on her belly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"She's not hurt," Emma said, reaching for his hand to hold it. She looked at him searchingly for a long, charged moment before letting out a sigh. "I guess the kiss didn't work," she said.

Killian raised a brow. "It certainly worked on me."

"Not what I mean," she said with a smirk. "It was a longshot without you being able to remember me. I was hoping your memories came back."

"I got a few more flashes," he said, closing his eyes to remember. "They were nice ones this time. You and I. And a lot of kissing."

"There was a lot of kissing," she said with a smile. She brought his hand back to her belly. "Obviously."

"Perhaps the secret is to just keep kissing me," he suggested. "By morning I could be back to my old self again."

Emma let out a laugh. "Now there's the pirate I know and love."

"Pirate?" He looked surprised.

"Later," she said. "It's after midnight and I am dead on my feet. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"What are we doing tomorrow?"

Emma pulled his hand up to her lips. "I need you to do something for me. No questions asked. Just a blind leap of faith. As the mother of your child,  I'm asking this."

He felt the weight of those words like an anvil on his chest. His answer was immediate and automatic. "Anything," he said. "Whatever it is."

He closed his eyes as another flash of memory assailed him. A man in a uniform, a brother. His brother. And he knew he'd follow him anywhere. He sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes.

"You remembered something else?" Emma asked, watching him closely.

Killian nodded. "A brother. I have a brother."

"His name was Liam."

"Liam. That's right."

"Your sense of honor," Emma mused. "I touched on your sense of honor, and you remembered Liam. It makes sense."

Killian shook his head. "I'm not following."

"Your sense of honor is as much a part of you as those lethal blue eyes. I only needed to remind you of it. And tomorrow, I want to take you somewhere that's just as much a part of you."

"And where's that?"

She leaned in, kissing him once more. "Home," she said simply. "Wanna go on a road trip with me?"

"I'll have to speak with Billy first. Let him know I'll be away for a while."

"Of course. Your honor would demand that you do." Emma yawned, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Look at you!" Killian said, reaching out to steady her. "You're swaying on your feet. Let me help you to your bed."

She looked up at him as he ushered her down the hall. "You're staying. . . right?"

He went very still. "Do you want me to?"

"I miss your arms around me. It's been a long time. But if this is weird for you, I understand."

"I've missed you too," he said quietly. "I didn't realize it until now, but there's nothing weird about this. I'll stay, if you'll have me."

Emma patted her belly. "I've had you already," she smirked. "And look where that got me. Come on, I'm half-asleep and you've got minutes before I'm all the way there."

He helped her into bed, turning his eyes away as slipped into a nightgown before laying back and pulling the covers up. He only took off his boots before sliding in next to her, and he moved closer as she reached back, pulling his arm around her so he could spoon her from behind. It was only moments until her breathing deepened, and he laid there in the dark, his mind whirring with all he'd remembered and experienced tonight.

No, there was nothing weird about this, he thought. She felt right in his arms. Completely and utterly right. No matter what he'd been before, what horrors he'd seen or visited upon others, no matter who he'd been - a pirate? Perhaps. No matter what all that meant, she was here.

 _There's the pirate I know and love_ , she'd said.

He didn't believe it. Surely she was only joking, in light of the man he'd once been. But he liked the sound of it.

He pulled her closer, smoothed back her hair, and let his mind wander as his fingers stroked her belly, and sleep claimed him at last.


	8. Doing What Comes Naturally

"It's a four-speed transmission, and for now you'll have to let me call out when to change gears. You'll get a feel for it the more you drive, but for now - listen to me."

"And I have to depress this pedal when I maneuver the gears, right?" Killian gave the clutch a test. "Billy tried to show me all of this in one of the jeeps, but we didn't get in more than a lesson or two."

"Let me shift the gears," Emma said, reaching over to lay her hand on the gearshift. "Once we get out of town, we'll be on the highway and you'll stay in fourth gear for most of that. Just remember that when I shift, it needs to be smooth. Just don't pop the clutch or we'll stall."

Killian took his hand off the wheel and rubbed his ear. "How is it I don't know how to drive a car? Billy assumed it was because I came from New York, but you said I didn't live there."

"You didn't need a car," Emma said. "And you're getting a crash course now because I can't make a thirty-five hour drive by myself, as we witnessed yesterday."

"You should have told me you were that drowsy," Killian admonished. "We could have been killed."

"I know." Emma sighed. "It was reckless. I just really want to get home."

"Well, you've driven eight hours today - despite my protestations - in addition to fourteen yesterday, so I suggest you let me take us from here. Where to next? Do we have a map?"

"We have Google. And that's not a wizard," she hastily amended.

He raised a brow. "I know what Google is."

Emma opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Right. Sorry. Anyway, I've got my phone and the navigator is on. We just do what it tells you to do." She reached down for the gearshift. "Now push the clutch in and I'll get us in gear."

"Right."

"Look behind you."

"Right."

Killian twisted back to look behind him, and a moment later, the car screeched backward, spinning into a semicircle before jerking hard to stop and stalling out.

"Damn!"

"You popped the clutch!"

"I don't even know what that means!"

Emma let out a frustrated sigh. "When you let the clutch out, do it slow. The clutch pedal comes up slowly, while the gas pedal goes down. Smooth. Got it?"

He nodded. "I've got it now. Try again." He turned the key in the ignition, and nothing happened. "It's broken," he said.

"Push the clutch in. You can't start the car unless the clutch is in."

"Right. Yes." Killian restarted the car. His foot pushed the clutch down, and Emma levered the gearshift into first gear.

"Okay, now slow," Emma said. "Pull us out of the parking lot and onto the road. And when I say 'clutch,' push the pedal in."

"Got it." He pulled out slowly, giving the wheel a few experimental tugs to and fro.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked. "Clutch!"

Killian dutifully depressed the pedal as she moved them into second gear. "I'm getting a feel for how she handles. How much play there is in the wheel. How responsive she can be."

Emma raised her brows. "It's a car, not a woman."

He gave her an unrepentant grin. "They both respond to touch. And I like to know just how responsive she can be before we get underway. That's all."

"I'm familiar with your methods," Emma smirked. She pointed at the road. "Drive."

###

"Can we confirm that the Black Fairy is gone?" Snow asked.

"I've had the sisters do a thorough fly-over," Blue said.

"And we put a tracer on this," Regina said, holding up a single hair. "The locator spell for dark magic led me to this - it was still on the counter at Grannys, and that alone should make you question your dining choices."

"Regina." Snow gave her a look.

"I'm only pointing out the general lack of hygiene," Regina shrugged. "As it turns out, as long as we have something that was hers, we now have a way to know if she returns."

"Well, that's something," Snow said begrudgingly. "If we can get Emma here and under a protection spell before she gets back, we should be all right - right?"

"That depends," Regina said.

"On . . .?

"On how long Emma's labor lasts." Regina reached for her phone as it chirped, checking a text. "That's Henry. We're ready."

"Be careful," Snow said, walking her to the door.

"I will. And you keep an eye on that," Regina said pointing to the single, dark hair laying on the white handkerchief on the kitchen counter. "If it starts glowing, call me right away. And don't leave the house. Neal may not be a newborn, but he's still in her range."

Snow let out an involuntary shiver,. "Understood."

###

Emma smacked her lips, trying to get some moisture into her mouth, which had a distinctly gummy feeling. Her groggy brain finally recognized the fact that she'd fallen asleep, and somehow Killian's jacket was doubled-up between her head and the window.

"How are you feeling?" Killian asked, giving a quick glance at the rearview mirror before he changed lanes.

"Where are we?"

"According to our friend Google, we've passed Philadelphia, and are now into New Jersey."

Emma sat up with a start. "Jersey? How - what?" How long have I been out?"

"Six hours, give or take."

"That's. . . I can't - " she struggled to find a more comfortable position. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed to sleep," he said, turning on the blinker and then turning into the parking lot of a Taco Bell.

"What's wrong?" Emma said, turning to look out the window. She turned again, trying to twist around and see behind them.

"Nothing's wrong," Killian said, stopping her before she dislocated something. "Who the devil do you think is following us? I thought you might need to use the restroom. It's been a while."

"Oh." She visibly relaxed. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."

She started to reach for her seat belt, but Killian put a staying hand on her shoulder. "Don't try to get out - let me help you. You're bound to be unsteady after sleeping in such a cramped position."

He exited the vehicle, hurrying around to the passenger side to help her out and to her feet, keeping a steadying arm around her waist as he walked her into the building. A short time later she emerged from the restroom, rubbing her lower back. He stepped forward instantly to meet her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she waved him off. "VW Bugs might be stylish, but they're not ideal for distance driving. Especially for me."

"Why don't we stop for the night?" he suggested. "We don't need to push ourselves so hard. It's not good for the baby."

"Well, neither is starvation. I need some tacos."

"Here?" he made a face.

"Since when are you a taco snob?"

He gave her a look. "Since I've been living in Santa Fe."

"Well I'm in dire need of a Cool Ranch taco or three. Come on."

A few minutes later, they were ensconsed in a booth, and Killian was eating his food with gusto.

"What d'you call this again?" he asked, wolfing down another bite.

"Crunchwrap Supreme," Emma replied around a mouthful of taco.

"I don't think that's a real thing," Killian said. "But I am enjoying it anyway."

"Taco Bell is a seriously underrated guilty pleasure," Emma agreed, finishing off her taco. She leaned her head back in the booth, pushing her legs out and giving her belly a rub.

"Better?"

"Much." She pulled out her phone, checking texts, then let out a sigh. "I hate to get back in the car, but we need to get going."

He stood up, then helped Emma to her feet.

"You sure you don't want me to drive?" She asked, as Killian reached out a hand, to gently rub her belly.

"I would imagine she'd like a little more breathing room."

"That goes for both of us," Emma said with a chuckle.

"Emma, I'm quite serious," Killian said, reaching down to take her hand. "Let's stop for the night."

"Nope. Gotta get back on the road."

"Then at least lie down in the back seat," he said. "I've got the hang of driving now."

"Do you?"

"How do you think the car got here?" he asked. "Magic?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't give that a response. "We're not far from where we're staying the night," Emma said. "According to our good buddy, Google, we'll be there in under twenty minutes. I'd like to get there before dark, so let's go."

They climbed back in the car, and true to his word, Killian was driving like a pro. Emma wasn't surprised - he was simply trading waves for wheels, after all. The directions had them turning off the highway, and paralleling the coast, and Killian obliged when Emma asked him to roll down the window. He got a full blast of salt air in his face, ruffling his hair, and suddenly, he was transported, feeling boards beneath his feet, the creak of wood and the rippling of cloth in a strong breeze. It was all he could do to hold onto his concentration and keep the car on the road. He was breathing heavily as Emma's hand touched his leg.

"You okay?"

He nodded, taking in a few large gulps of air. "I'm fine. Fine. Just remembering."

"It's the ocean, right? Seeing it?"

"Smelling it. I know that smell."

They drove a few more minutes in silence, and Emma studied the play of emotions across Killian's face. Every so often, his eyes would shift to the water, running parallel to the road, and he'd take in a deeper draught of air. She could see what it was doing for him - his shoulders were straightening, he was full of energy almost to the point of being unable to sit still. This had definitely been a good idea.

Five minutes later, and they were pulling off into the dirt on a secluded section of road at the coast, stopping before the dirt gave way to sand. Killian helped her out once again, which was a good thing as it was getting more and more difficult climbing in and out of the car without pulling or straining something. They stood next to the car, and Killian turned his face into the wind, letting the breeze hit his face full-on.

"You have reservations somewhere nearby?" he asked.

"Something like that," Emma said, giving a funny little jerk. "Yowch! That was a sharp one!" She pushed on her belly lightly. "I think she's glad to be out of the car again."

"Have you given a thought to naming her?"

"I was thinking maybe Cleo, for someone I once knew. Did you have any thoughts?"

"I'm still getting used to the idea," he reminded her. "But Cleo is a lovely name."

"And then I was thinking Ruth for a middle name," Emma said as they walked down toward the water. "She was my father's mother."

Killian made a face.

"What?" she stopped, putting a hand on his chest. "What's wrong?"

"I can't remember my own mother," he said. "You'd think if a man could remember anything, it would be his mother."

Emma reached up, pushing his hair off his forehead. "She's been gone a long time, Killian. You never really knew her."

"Again, you know so much of me. Can't you tell me?"

The look of entreaty in his eyes nearly did her in. "I'm hoping you'll get there yourself . . . with a little nudge, she answered, shading her eyes with her hand.

Killian looked at her curiously. "What are you looking for?"

Emma lowered her hand from her eyes, smiling triumphantly. "A little nudge. And there she is."

Killian's world gave an oddly familiar lurch at the sight of a mast and sails, and the entirety of what looked like an old-fashioned tall ship, cruising around the bend on the coastline and heading straight for them.

"What the bloody hell?" His jaw dropped in pure amazement, as Emma waved at the two figures standing on the deck. Her phone chirped, and she glanced down at it.

"They're bringing us aboard," she said. "Killian - close your eyes."

"What? Why would I need to-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Emma threw her arms around him, pulling his lips to hers, and he closed his eyes, pulling her in and returning the kiss almost without thinking. It was as natural as breathing, kissing her, and it was over all too soon.

He lifted his head, and then he staggered backward.

"How. . .?" He was on the deck of the ship, and Emma's car was right next to them in the center. Right beside the car was a woman whose face now flashed through his memories, sometimes mocking, sometimes angry - he wasn't entirely sure if she was friend or foe. And beside Emma now, hugging her was -

"Henry." The name came out of his mouth and they all turned to look at him in surprise.

Emma stepped in front of him. "You remember?"

"I remember him," he nodded. "I mean - he seems familiar. As does she." He gestured at Regina. "I'm not as sure about her, though. But Henry, I feel as though we were - friends."

"We were," Henry said, smiling. "We _are_ , I mean."

"So are we, after a fashion," Regina said, giving him a nod.

"But we weren't always?"

Regina paused a moment. "No."

"How the devil did we get on board?" he roared, turning in a circle.

Emma reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You have to trust me, okay? I'll explain everything once we get underway. I promise."

Killian let out a long breath. "Another mystery."

"Come here," Emma said, taking his hand and leading him up a short flight of stairs. She walked him over to the wheel, and put his hand on it. Killian reacted like lightning struck. His fingers gripped the wheel hard as dozen of memories filled his head, flooding over, drowning him in sensory overload so keen he nearly passed out from it. His knees buckled, and Emma shoved her shoulder under his arm to support him as he tried to make sense of it all.

_Men. The smell of them, unwashed, with rum on their breath. Shouting. Cresting waves and the roll and pitch of the deck beneath him. A brilliant light and a massive whirlpool, tearing at his clothing as he rammed the ship down it's center, racing with the wind at his back as a dark purple fog nearly engulfed them, but tacking hard at the last moment and pulling away as he laughed triumphantly, knowing he'd done it._

_Touching the ropes with his hand, his fingers lingering on the wheel as he whispered a goodbye. . ._

"The ship is mine," he said simply. Then with more force. "This is _my_ ship!"

"This is the Jolly Roger," Henry said, clapping him on the back. "And she's one hundred percent yours."

"How much do you remember?" Emma asked.

"More. I'm a p-" he stopped, thinking it was probably preposterous, but Emma finished for him.

"You're a pirate. It's okay. You're a good one."

"A damn good one!" Henry added.

"And that being said, we'll all get home a lot faster if he's at the helm," Regina pointed out.

Killian still looked stunned, so Emma intervened. "He's just had a lot hit him all at once," she said. "Henry can get us home."

"Mom, I'm pretty good," Henry said, "But he's really the best. And it might be good for him."

"I'm a _pirate?_ " Killian took a few halting steps toward the stern, looking out over the water.

"Here's your cutlass," Henry said, handing him the sword. "And I see Mom already got you the hook."

"I'm a pirate with a hook. And a pirate ship." He was staring blankly up at the sails, as if he wasn't sure he was really awake or not. Regina reached up, pulling his chin down so he was looking at them again.

"We don't have time for this," she said in exasperation. "We need to get Emma back home where it's safe, and the sooner the better."

"You got that right," Emma said in a very strained voice. Killian's head snapped around immediately and he reached her in two strides.

"Emma?" he asked, registering the alarm on her face as she raised her head. Her hands were on her knees and she was standing very still.

"My water broke," she said. "This baby's coming. _Now._ "


	9. Whole

"You can't be having the baby!" Regina said, putting a hand on Emma's back.

"I don't think it's up for a vote," Emma said. She tried to straighten up, but ended up clutching her belly and bowing over once again.

"It's too soon!" Killian slid an arm around her. "We need to get you to a hospital!"

"There's no time for that," Henry said, coming up to stand in front of them. "We have to get her home. She's in danger every second she's away."

"Henry's right," Emma said, breathing hard now. "Labor takes a while. Hours maybe. This is the fastest ship in all the realms."

"Realms?" Killian looked confused. "What is going on here? I need to know what I've gotten myself into!" He looked around at all of them, searing them with his gaze. "If Emma needs to be protected, I'm the one to do that. But I need to know _everything_."

"Henry's right - we don't have time for that!" Regina said. "We've got to get her back to Storybrooke!"

"Storybrooke!"

As he said the word, the place invaded his brain. _A street, with lightning flashing. A clocktower. Pain in his chest as he heard the clock strike. A harbor. A park with a pond. Eating a grilled cheese sandwich in a diner with Henry. A house._

_No, more than a house. A home. With Emma. Waking before her in the morning, and just watching her sleep. The way the sunlight gleamed on her hair and the smell of coffee as he sat across the breakfast table from her._

"Storybrooke . . . it's my - our - home," he stammered.

"You're still remembering," Emma said with a smile. "And yes, it's home. And I know you need to hear it all and you will, I promise. But right now, we've got to get to Storybrooke or our baby will be in danger."

"What must I do?" He didn't hesitate.

"Sail this ship. Sail it as fast as you can. Henry will tell you where we're going."

"But - the baby. You need me."

"I need you at that wheel," Emma said, through gritted teeth. "This baby will take hours . . . I hope. Regina will stay with me."

"Emma -"

Regina stepped forward, sliding an arm around Emma from the other side. "I'll send for you when it's time," she said to Killian. "I promise."

"I'll run a status check between them and you every few minutes," Henry said. "I can take the wheel when the time comes, but the longer you're in charge, the faster we'll get there."

Killian reluctantly nodded. "Where is Storybrooke?"

"Maine," Henry answered.

"Maine!" Killian looked aghast. "Sailing might come back to me, mate, but even I can't travel at the speed of a jetliner. It's not like I can wave a magic wand and get us there in a few hours."

Henry clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me on this one."

Emma nodded frantically. "Trust him, Killian. I have to get to a bed now."

"Can you get us turned around?" he asked Henry.

"Yeah."

"I'll get her downstairs, and be right back."

He swung Emma up into his arms despite her protests, and walked her up to the hatch as Regina opened it. He stood Emma on her feet.

"Let me get down there first, so that I can help you," he said, scrambling down the ladder as Emma leaned into Regina.

"You ready for this?" Regina asked, her face full of concern.

Emma's brows went up. "Do I have -" she groaned, bending over again, "- a choice?"

"Emma!"

"Coming!" she called back. She took a deep breath, then looked at Regina. "Are _you_ ready for this?"

Regina squared her shoulders. "No. But I've got your back."

###

"How's it going down there?" Killian asked, as Henry backed out of the hatch.

"They told me to get the hell out," Henry answered. "I can't even go all the way down the ladder."

They both froze at the sound of a long, echoing groan echoing from the open hatch. Killian took an abortive step, then remembered himself and gripped the wheel again.

"I should be down there," he said grimly. "But I can't deny that we are making excellent time. This ship is a bloody marvel."

"Relax," Henry said, then was utterly betrayed by another tortured moan from the hatch. "She's been doing that for hours. Nothing's changed, so that's good, right?"

"How the devil do I know? I've never had a baby before," Killian said. He looked at Henry sharply. "Have I?"

"No."

He ran a hand over his face, then took the wheel again. "This is maddening."

"I know. But we're getting closer." Henry consulted his watch, then looked up at the stars. "By my estimation, we should be getting there within the next hour or so."

"In this ship, that breaks all the known laws of physics," Killian said. "It's a wooden vessel. There's no propulsion system, other than the wind - which hasn't been gale force by any means. I may be only just remembering how to sail, but this . . .Henry, this makes no sense."

"It's not supposed to," Henry said simply. "You think you're an average guy living in an average world, but you're not."

"As in, 'the world isn't what I think it is?'"

"As in, you're not an average guy. None of us are. We're talking about magic."

Killian opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

"What?" Henry said. "I know. It's hard to believe. But you can start by not looking at me like I've grown another nose or something."

"I'm not. I mean, I probably am, but - I believe you."

"You believe me?"

"Nothing else makes sense. And just like with the baby - I just feel it. I can't explain it further than that."

"You don't need to explain it," Henry said. "You just need to believe. And sail as fast as this magical ship can go."

Another sound broke into the conversation - this time a barely stifled scream.

"Aye," Killian said, giving the wheel a hard turn, tacking into the breeze and putting the wind at their back as the ship raced across the water.

"Henry, why don't you -" He didn't get a chance to finish, as Regina's voice rang out.

"Hook! Now!"

Killian didn't wait for an explanation of the nickname. He was at the hatch in two steps as Henry rushed forward to grab the wheel, and with his boots barely touching each step, he was down and into the cabin a heartbeat later. He rushed to Emma's side, gripping her hand in his own.

"Is she all right?" he asked Regina. "And the baby?"

"I think she's crowning," Regina said, in a state of semi-panic. "But I don't know. I've never done this before!"

"Well, neither have I!" Killian replied, just as frantic.

"That makes me the resident authority," Emma panted. "I need to push."

Regina shook her head. "I don't know - maybe you should wait."

"Wait!" Emma's voice rang out incredulously. "I. Can't. Wait." And to punctuate that statement, she let out a very loud, very long shriek that Killian felt in every bone of his body, especially his hand - since Emma was crushing it.

"Tell her to breathe," Regina said. "In and out. In and out."

"Breathe," Killian repeated. "In and -"

"I'm right here!" Emma screamed. "I can hear you! I'm breathing!"

She let out another scream and Regina's eyes went wide.

"She's crowning! The baby's head is crowning! Push, Emma!"

"I'm pushing!"

Killian slid his free arm behind her back, supporting her and she rounded up and bore down. One more long, excruciating scream, and then she collapsed against him as a baby's cry cut the air. None of them noticed the candles flickering madly in their lamps.

"It's a girl," Regina said, smiling from ear to ear. "But you knew that."

"Is she . . .okay?" Emma panted.

"She's beautiful. Hold on, I'm cleaning her up." Regina finished wiping the baby down, wrapping her snugly, then she placed her carefully on Emma's chest.

"She's amazing," Emma said, reaching out to stroke the downy-soft puff of dark hair on her daughter's head. She looked up at Killian. "Look what we did," she said, smiling through her tears.

He reached down reverently, running a finger across the baby's cheek, and she responded by opening her eyes. The crystal blue clarity of them held him spellbound, as Regina's voice broke through.

"There's certainly no doubt about that child's parentage," she snarked.

Emma let out a tired laugh. "Nope. No doubt at all." She reached up to touch Killian's face, and he pulled his gaze from the child to meet hers.

"I love you, Killian," she said.

The weight of it all falling away left him insensate for a long moment. _All the confusion, all the darkness, all the questions. Gone._

"I love you, Emma," he said simply. "And I remember it all now."

"You're -" her mouth fell open.

"Not cursed anymore. That was the last of it. I'm whole again."

"It took me birthing a baby to do it?" She looked down at her daughter. "Well, whatta ya know?"

"It wasn't just the baby," he said, leaning down to kiss the babe's forehead, then Emma's. "It was you. Your love for me. I let myself believe in it, and in us." He kissed his daughter again. "In all of us."

"Thank God," she sighed. "You're all the way back."

"All the way."

"We need to fill you in," Regina said. "You didn't get this way by accident."

"Hey down there!" Henry called out, interrupting whatever Regina was about to say next. "Am I a brother, or what?"

"You're a brother!" Killian called. "And she's bloody beautiful!"

"Can I see her?"

"I have to get Emma cleaned up and then you can come down," Regina answered. "Then I have to debrief Hook."

"Keep her on course, Henry!" Killian called out. Then he turned to Regina.

"May we have a few moments? Just the three of us?"

Emma nodded. "Yes. Just us."

Regina smiled softly. "I'll give you a few. I could use some fresh air." She made her way to the stairs, and Killian eased himself down onto the bed next to Emma. She shifted to make room, and the baby screwed up her face and let out a grunt before settling in to chew on her fist.

"There now," he said, cradling her with his hand around Emma's. "No need to fret. We've got you."

"We certainly do," Emma said softly, stroking the baby's head again. "I should probably try to feed her soon."

"Give her a moment," he said. "She's just been through a traumatic experience. And so has her father."

Emma looked concerned. "You really are okay?"

"Never better," he said, leaning in to kiss her. She met his lips with her own and they clung like that for a long moment, until the baby grunted yet again.

"I suppose we'd better get used to interruptions," Killian said, looking down at his daughter. "Not that I could ever be cross with you, my darling girl."

"She's already got you wrapped around her finger," Emma said with a satisfied smile. "The dashing pirate, reduced to rubble."

"Precisely."

She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and sighed. "Look what we made, Killian," she said again.

He gave her a crooked grin in response. "And now I remember exactly how we made her. It's good to be back."

###

Killian looked down as he rocked the sleeping baby in the crook of his arm. "Regina is going to see that Dr. Whale is standing by with a wheelchair," he said. "So you just stay put until he gets in place on the dock."

"I'm not going anywhere," Emma said. "I'd love to nap again but it feels like we're pulling in."

"Aye," he replied. "I'd better get back up there. I'm not sure Henry's quite ready to pull her up to the dock with precision yet. And we'll need that gangplank for you. I'll be right back."

He transferred the baby to her arms and gave her a gentle kiss on the head before heading back topside again. It seemed to Emma like she'd just closed her eyes when he was back again.

"Sorry, love," he said, touching her gently on the shoulder. "Hate to disturb you, but we'll be leaving in a moment. From what Regina's told me, the sooner we get the baby under that protection spell, the better."

Emma nodded, blinking her eyes to clear the fogginess from them. "No sign of the Black Fairy?"

"Nothing so far. Regina told your mother to bring the Black Fairy's discarded hair with her - we'll know if she gets anywhere near here."

"Has she arrived?"

"Not yet, but I expect she'll be here any minute now."

Henry's voice called out from above. "Mom? Can I come down?"

"Sure, Henry," she called back. "Killian - do you have another blanket? I want to cover the baby's face in case there's wind."

"I'll grab one for you, too," Killian replied. "You probably don't fit your leather jacket right now." He gave her expanded chest a pointed look and raised brow before he turned away to open a chest, retrieving two blankets.

"Why don't you let me hold her?" Henry suggested as Emma carefully wrapped the sleeping baby. "Killian's going to have to help you up the stairs."

"Are they here?" Emma asked.

"Yeah. That's why I came down."

"Keep the edge of the blanket across her face," Emma cautioned as she handed the baby off. "And don't let the sun hit her full-on. Oh, and don't wake her up."

"I've got it," Henry said, smiling. "I'll be careful."

He walked carefully up the stairs, with Killian standing close behind, watching for the slightest mis-step. Once he was satisfied the baby had made it safely topside, he turned back to Emma.

"All right, love, that's it. Lean into me." He slid his arm around her waist as she stood. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"I'm okay," Emma said, waving him off. "Just . . .take it slow."

"We'll take just a few steps, then we'll rest, all right?"

"All right."

Emma took a few halting steps, then gave Killian a nod. "It's okay. I can do more."

"Don't push too hard. I still think I should carry you."

"Save it for when I need it. If I need it. Right now, I'm ready to go again."

"I've got you."

It took another few minutes to reach the stairs, then a series of slow, wincing steps to reach the top. Henry was there to greet them.

"Mom went to get the wheelchair from Dr. Whale."

Emma let out a huff of air. "Good. I need to sit down."

"Lean into me, love, I've got you." Killian looked over at Henry. "Who's got the baby?"

"The baby?" Henry looked confused. "Don't you have the baby?"

Emma's eyes met Killian's, and the deep and terrible truth passed between them as Emma sank slowly to the deck with a cry.


	10. Dark And Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I apologize for the tardiness and the brevity of this update - last week my book launched and life has been a whirlwind. I'll try to get another mini-update up in the next day or two to round this out. In the meantime, accept my apologies and let's see where we're going next. . ._

"We're going to find her," David said, taking Emma's hands in his own. "I swear to you. We'll find her."

"This is the Black Fairy, mate," Killian reminded him, as his arm tightened around Emma's shoulders. "I'll be going this one alone. You have a baby of your own to stay safe for."

"I'm not going to let you go off by yourself-"

"And I remember what it cost you to leave Neal behind when you came after me," Killian said grimly. "I appreciate your offer, but you're needed here. Your curse still hasn't broken, and your child needs you half of every day."

"You can't do this alone!" David protested.

"He won't be alone." Emma pulled her hands from her father's, running them up and down her body from knees to shoulders and back again. A warm, purple light trailed behind her fingers, fading as she drew in a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet.

"There." She looked over at Killian. "Let's go."

"Emma-" David started to protest again.

"I'm healed up. And I'm going after my daughter."

" _Our_ daughter," Killian said, taking her hand. "Regina - you have a way of tracing her?"

"Snow gave me the hair from the harpy's head just before she went down for the night," Regina replied. "With this, we can find her anywhere."

"And with the globe, we've got a good idea where to start," Emma said. "Let's get over to Gold's."

"You're sure you're all right?" Killian put a gentle hand to her belly.

"No, I'm far from all right," Emma said. "But I'm physically fine. Let's go."

Rumplestiltskin looked up as Emma, Killian and Regina filed in the door.

"I was wondering when I'd see you," he said. "Am I to assume she got the baby?"

"She got the baby." Emma's voice was flat, emotionless.

"We need to know where she is," Killian growled. "And you're going to give us that bloody globe so we can find her."

"The globe isn't going to help you. She's no doubt sequestered in a realm beyond your reach by now."

"I refuse to believe that," Emma snapped. "If she's somewhere, we can get to her."

"That's the problem," Rumple said. "She's nowhere. The dark realm isn't a place that exists as we know it. The rules are different there. Even I can't get there, and I'm as dark as it gets around here."

"You're saying The Dark One can't travel to a place of darkness?" Killian asked incredulously.

"I'm dark," Rumple replied with a flourish of his hand. "But she's darker. Much, much darker."

Killian reached across the counter, wrapping his fist in Rumple's shirt and pulling him forward by it. "You're going to tell us how to get there, and you're going to do it now."

Rumple gave him an annoyed look. "At the risk of sounding repetitive, it can't be done. Once she's said the child's name, she can take her anywhere her blackened little heart desires. And I'd be wary of wrinkling this shirt. It's hard to steer a ship when you've lost _both_ hands," he finished coldly.

"Wait a minute - what do you mean "said the child's name," Regina said, stepping forward. She gave Killian a nod and he released Rumple, curling his fingers into a fist.

"Just what I said," Rumple replied, giving Killian a glare as he smoothed out the front of his shirt. "Names are a specialty of mine - and as we all know, names can be powerful things. Once the Black Fairy has learned your child's name, there's no hope of rescue."

"But we haven't named her yet," Emma said.

"You've picked out a name," Killian said. "She must've overheard it."

Emma shook her head. "But that wasn't official. I wasn't going to use it, anyway."

"So the baby hasn't been named?" Regina asked. Emma shook her head again, and Regina turned back to Rumple. "What does that mean?"

"It means she cannot take the baby to the dark realm," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean the child is out of danger."

"Why does she want our baby in the first place?" Emma demanded. "What have we ever done to her?"

"Oh, it's not what you've done, Miss Swan," Rumple replied. "Rather, it's what you are. What you _both_ are. And were."

"Meaning . . ?"

"Meaning we both used to be Dark Ones," Killian filled in.

"Precisely." Rumple's eyes slid to Killian. "And as much as it strains credulity, Mr. Jones is apparently capable of True Love. This child was born of souls touched by darkness, yet conceived in True Love. And that makes for a very, very powerful mix."

"And what exactly is she going to do with my daughter?" Emma demanded.

Regina sucked in a breath. "I've told you - there's no shortage of spells that use baby parts. And magically powerful baby parts make for powerful and terrible spells."

"How do we kill her?" Killian asked. "There's got to be a way."

"White magic," Emma said. "I can counter her. Blow her apart."

"As powerful a thing as you possess, Miss Swan, it won't be enough." Rumple reached into a curio cabinet on the wall behind him. "You won't be able to kill her, but you may be able to vanquish her. With this."

He turned around, and in his hand was a tiny vial. Regina's eyes widened. "Black Fairy dust?"

"Won't that just turn her into a cockroach, or something?" Emma asked.

"If it were anyone else, yes," Rumple said. "But this is the Black Fairy. The creator of this particular piece of magic. Use this on her, and it's the equivalent of two negative forces meeting, and repelling. She'll be sucked into a void and trapped there. Theoretically."

"What do you mean, theoretically?" Regina demanded. "Either it'll work or it won't."

He gave her a sharp look. "It's a theory because no one has ever gotten close enough to try it. The Black Fairy is not easily trifled with. Her penchant for subterfuge is extreme, as are her powers."

"Yeah, we're aware of that," Emma said grimly. "So where's the globe?"

Emma started to reach for the dust, but Killian stayed her hand. "Wait." He gave Rumple a wary look. "What's the price?"

"Not much."

Rumple's voice was quiet, but Regina reacted with a loud scoffing sound.

"Not much? With you, that could cost us a limb."

"Not this time, I'm afraid," he said, with a forced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The stakes are entirely too high. If she harnesses the power inside that child, no one will ever be safe again. I know too well the darkness she commands."

"As do we," Killian said with a grimace. "Now name your price."

"A lock of your daughter's hair will do."

"Done." Emma overruled Killian, who was just opening his mouth to object. "I need my baby, Killian. It's a small price to pay."

"Aye," Killian finally agreed reluctantly. "But I want his vow that it won't be used for nefarious purposes."

"You're hardly in a position to bargain," Rumple said. "And 'nefarious' is in the eye of the beholder."

"She was conceived with True Love," Regina said. "He can't hurt anyone with what he's asking. That doesn't mean he can't use it to his advantage, but he can't work anything dark with it."

"She's quite correct, Miss Swan." Rumple reached under the counter and propped the globe up on the top of the case. "Now, if you'll both do the honors. . ."

"It takes more than one of us?" Emma asked.

"It'll be more accurate. You have more than one child," Rumple reminded her. "And it's quite possible the pirate has sired an entire fleet-"

Killian's hand shot out, and his hook came to rest at Rumple's throat. "You mind your tongue," he seethed. "I've avoided fatherhood precisely because of the darkness in my soul. I chose to become a better man before _I_ brought a child into the world."

Emma pulled his hook away from Rumple's throat. "You don't need to prove anything to him," she reminded him. "I chose you to be the baby's father because of the man you are, not in spite of it."

She reached out and pricked her finger, then Killian did the same. Together, they each squeezed a drop of blood onto the globe. It swirled and coalesced, solidifying into a glowing marker, outlined by a patch of land.

"Where is that?" Emma asked, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

"You've got to be kidding," Regina said, glancing over Emma's shoulder.

"Lovely." Killian's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"What am I missing? Where is that?" Emma asked again.

"The Black Fairy has apparently taken up residence at my castle," Rumple said.

"So we have to go back to the Enchanted Forest?"

"We have to go back," Regina said. "And she's got access to a whole lot of mayhem."

"Charming." Killian reached for the vial of black fairy dust. "Let's go."


	11. The Meaning of Family

Killian stepped out from the cover of the trees, motioning the others forward.

"No sign of her yet," he said, looking up at the castle.

"What about the hair, Regina?" Emma asked as they emerged from the trees.

"She's in there, all right," Regina said, staring at the glowing hair that was pillowed on the handkerchief in her hand. "And from the looks of this split-end, she could use a good conditioner."

"So what's the plan?" Emma raised a hand to her eyes as she surveyed the castle wall in the distance. "Can we get in without her seeing us?"

"Doubtful," Regina said.

"I say we wait for nightfall," Killian said. Emma started to object, and he raised a hand to quiet her. "Hear me out, love. If we storm in there now, she'll be ready, and we'll be at a disadvantage. If we wait for darkness, there's a chance she'll be gone."

Regina placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "He's right. She flies out every night to do her baby-stealing. We've got a much better chance of finding your daughter alone."

"She'd leave my baby _alone_?" Emma's eyes widened and she clenched her fists, slamming them down in an impotent gesture. "I can't stand this. I really can't."

Killian reached for her hand, uncurling the fingers and sliding his own between them. "I can't either, love. But we have to give our child her best chance."

"The Black Fairy will keep her safe and well until she gets that name," Regina said. "It's likely she'll return to Storybrooke in an effort to find you and get it and that would be ideal. Rumple will be waiting - and he's got a bone of his own to pick with her."

Emma gave a reluctant nod. "Sorry. I'm not thinking clearly. And I have one hell of a headache."

"You're dehydrated," Killian said. "We've been walking for hours." He pulled off his pack, rummaging through it to find his canteen. "We're going to need water," he said. "If memory serves, there's a stream at the bottom of that slope."

"Good idea," Emma said, handing him her canteen, and then passing Regina's along to him. "We'll keep watch here in sight of the castle."

"Be careful as you go," Regina said to Killian. "She's nearby - and that doesn't necessarily mean at the castle."

"Aye," he agreed. "It'll be dark soon enough. Stay out of sight."

He stuffed the canteens into his pack and started off down the slope, keeping close to the cover of the trees. Emma dropped her pack, sinking down into the dirt beside it and leaning her back wearily against a tree.

"You okay?" Regina asked, sinking down next to her. "I know you healed yourself, but this is a lot to take on after just giving birth."

Emma looked up at her tiredly. "Like I have a choice."

"No, I don't suppose you do."

"You do, though. Regina, thank you for coming along. Really."

"Like I have a choice. I'm a hero now, remember?" She settled back against the wide trunk of the tree next to Emma. "We do this kind of stuff all the time."

"I didn't get to thank you for delivering the baby," Emma said.

"Now _that_ , you owe me for," Regina said with a wry grin. "Buy me a drink when we get back."

"Killian has the rum. You don't have to wait."

Regina shook her head. "I need all my wits dealing with this dark, demented dimwit. And I don't do rum."

Emma closed her eyes, and a look of pain settled on her face. "I can't help but wonder if she's hungry. Or cold. Or if she misses me . . ." Her eyes welled with tears and she blinked them back.

"Being a mother is understanding that your heart will always walk outside of your body from now on," Regina said. "It's certainly how I felt - " she paused, looking over at Emma. " How we _both_ felt when Henry was taken to Neverland."

"You know, I used to wonder about Henry," Emma said. "If he was being loved. If his family decided to keep him. If he was rich or poor or happy or sad. What his name was."

"I wondered about you, too," Regina said. "Probably not as often, but I did. Henry was so amazing, I had to wonder what kind of people contributed to that. And what forced them to give him up." She reached over, giving Emma's hand a squeeze. "The Black Fairy won't harm her. She needs the baby healthy and whole if she plans to take her away. So she's fed. She's warm. And babies sleep a lot so she's probably sleeping right now."

Emma rolled her head on her shoulder to look at Regina.

"Thanks." She took in a deep, fortifying breath. "Killian's been gone a while."

"And now I'm back," Killian said, coming back up the slope. He held out a canteen to Emma.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I need a drink," he replied. "But water will have to suffice. And you?"

"Another day in paradise," she said, taking her canteen.

"Regina?" he handed over the other canteen.

"Thrilled to be here," she replied, taking it from his hand. "We might want to start moving. If we have to scout the wall for a place to climb, that could take a while."

"Can't we just poof inside?" Emma asked.

"This is Rumple's castle," Regina said, shaking her head. "He'll have it booby trapped. And any magic will alert the baby-stealing bitch."

"I've got a much, much better idea," Killian said, setting his pack down next to Emma. "If there's a stream nearby, it almost always leads into the castle. A source of fresh water is invaluable, particularly if there's a siege of any kind. If we follow it, we'll be coming up through the dungeon, but it's far better than trying to scale a wall unobserved."

"This is Rumple's dungeon, we're talking about," Regina reminded him. "The dungeon of the Dark One."

"He doesn't scare me," Emma said. "We can handle whatever gets thrown at us."

"Well, then." Regina reached out a hand and Killian helped her to her feet. "I suggest we all rest while we can because we're going to need to be fresh when we hit this. I'm going use the facilities." She made a face. "Can't we have a villain that sticks to Storybrooke, again? There's a lot to be said for indoor plumbing."

Killian watched her go, then hunkered down, settling in next to Emma. He reached out his arm and she folded herself up under it, laying her head on his chest.

"Try closing your eyes for a few minutes. You need your rest."

"So do you," she said.

"Ah, but I'm not a food source, and you are," he reminded her. "I'll keep watch. "We've only got an hour or so until nightfall."

"How am I supposed to sleep?" Emma shook her head. "I need my baby, Killian."

He pressed his lips into her hair, and his arm tightened around her as he rubbed his chin against the top of her head. "I know, love. I know. I need her, too. And we'll get her back."

"I just got _you_ back and now this." Emma's voice cracked on the words and Killian pulled her in, shifting her across his lap so that he could wrap both arms around her. She was doing her best to hide the fact that she was crying. He reached down, wiping her cheeks gently with his fingers.

"Chin up, Swan. We'll sort this out, and we'll have her back in our arms in no time."

She tilted her face up to look at him, and he settled a soft and slow kiss on her lips before pressing her head gently to his chest. "Look at it this way - she's starting her life with an adventure. Very fitting for your side of the family."

Emma gave a reluctant smile. "Very fitting for _our_ family. You and me and Henry, and our baby."

Killian went utterly still.

"What?"

"You know, it just occurred to me that I have family." He swallowed hard, and blinked at the suspicious moisture gathering in his eyes. "I've a family of my own. And it's beautiful."

He took in a deep, cleansing breath, then another.

"I've been alone for so very long," he said hoarsely. "Centuries. And these last six months - I've felt more alone than ever in my life. I didn't even realize that I'd lost you, but I felt that loss all the same. I didn't have you, I didn't have the sea . . . " he trailed off, unable to finish for a moment. Emma leaned up, kissing his jaw, his cheek, and he turned to meet her, kissing her deeply and with everything he was feeling.

"I'm whole again," he said at last, when they parted. "Beyond whole. Overflowing. Having you, having a family - it's beyond anything I could have ever hoped to wish for myself. It's everything I've been _afraid_ to wish for myself."

"Me, too," she said. "Which only shows you how right it is that we've built this family together. Two broken halves, making a perfect whole."

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I love you, Emma. We'll get our baby back."

She nodded against his shirtfront, and he stroked her hair slowly from crown to nape until she relaxed. He saw Regina coming up the slope and gave her a nod.

"How are you, Regina?"

"Still thrilled to be here," she said, waving him off. "It's starting to get dark. That slope is going to be hard to navigate if we wait too much longer."

"She's still around?" Emma asked.

Regina reached into her pocket, pulling out the handkerchief with the hair. "For now," she said. "Let's get down to that stream. Once it turns fully dark, she'll be beating wings out of here to do her dirty work."

"I'm counting on that," Killian said. Emma took Killian's outstretched hand, and rose to her feet.

"Let's go," she said, pulling her gun from its holster. She paused a moment. "Are there ogres around here?"

"Not likely," Regina said. "Rumple set up a banishing spell. They kept tearing into Belle's rose garden, when he kept her here."

"Good to know." She started down the slope at an angle with Regina following, and Killian at the rear.

"We'll keep angling down so we stay in the trees, then we'll follow the water upstream," Killian directed as they moved along. Regina had been right - it was getting much darker, and with the added branch and leaf cover from the trees around them, not even moonlight was getting through. Emma tripped over a fallen branch, tumbling a few dozen feet as Killian clambered after her, before she came to rest at the bottom of the slope.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," Emma panted. "Just dirty and I think my butt is bruised."

She winced as she gave it a rub, sending a healing glow through her fingertips.

"I'd have had a go at it," Killian offered, "but you'll likely heal it faster."

"Shelve that for later," Regina said, gesturing up ahead. "Is that a gate I'm seeing?"

"Aye," Killian said, pulling a branch back to get a better look. "It's a postern gate. We'll need to get through it, then edge along the tunnel in the water. It should open up on the inside."

"I'm really not looking forward to slogging through the water," Regina complained.

"You're not wearing leather," Killian pointed out.

"This pantsuit is Dolce & Gabbana," Regina snapped. "And I just got it."

"Can we dispute fashion choices later, please?" Emma asked. "I need to feed my daughter. Soon." She rubbed her chest uncomfortably.

"Let's go," Killian said, helping Emma back to her feet. Once they reached the gate - which was partially submerged, Killian removed his boots and waded into the water, feeling down the front of it.

"The sediment has shifted down below," he said, extending his leg and sinking down into the water. "I believe I can get under it."

"Sounds like a plan," Emma said, unzipping her jacket.

"Wait - " Killian said. "There should be a release lever on the other side. Let me see if I can make it easier for you."

"Be careful."

Killian gave her a nod, then he disappeared, surfacing a few moments later on the other side.

"Everything okay?" Regina called out.

"The water's bloody cold and I could use a drink," he replied. "But there's no time for that now, as I've found a lever." He gave it a massive pull, throwing his body into it for leverage, and the gate slowly began to retract.

"I'm going to have to hold this, so hurry up," he said, as Regina and then Emma waded through. Emma paused a moment to wedge a thick branch from the gate's bottom down into the sediment.

"I don't know how long that will hold," she said.

"I'm going to swim ahead," Killian said. "If this is a dead end, I'd rather know that now before we all get too far in."

"We'll stay here and try to shore up this gate a little better," Emma said. He gave her a quick kiss, then swam off.

"Do you see any rocks?" she asked Regina?

Regina turned in the water, which was about thigh-high, and finally waded over to a pile of rubble in one corner. "Looks like the remains of a past siege that got repaired," she said, reaching for a large chunk of rock. Just as her hand closed around it, lightning lit up the tunnel, sending bolts ricocheting off the walls. Emma ducked as Regina threw herself back toward her. A large, green bubble formed around them, shielding them as the last of the lightning crashed and finally dissipated.

"What the hell . . ." Emma panted, open-mouthed.

"That wasn't the Black Fairy," Regina said, pulling the protection spell away from them. "That had Rumple booby-trap written all over it. We need to be more careful."

"Right." Emma's eyes snapped wide. "Killian!" She moved forward in the water, trying to see down the darkened tunnel.

"Killian!" she called out again. His voice echoed back to her.

"I'm here!" He appeared out of the darkness, motioning them forward. "I can get us in."

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, wading up to meet him.

"I'm fine. It's just this way." He started forward, and Emma turned to look at Regina, who gave her a look of her own.

"That's not Killian," Emma mouthed.

"I know," Regina mouthed back.


	12. What's In A Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
> _Hello readers! I apologize for the delay - I had a deadline to meet on the latest incarnation of my second book and that sort of ate my world this week. Anyway, i want to make it up to you! So I'm extending this fic by one more chapter after this one, because we need a good, fluffy, steamy epilogue, don't you think? Look for that chapter before the show airs on Sunday! And thank you for being patient with me. Now back to our shady fairy. . ._  
>  _

"Emma?" his voice echoed back in the tunnel.

"We're coming!" She lowered her voice to a whisper as she turned back to Regina. "It's our best chance to find the baby. She wants the name, she's going to take us to her. Then we find Killian."

Regina gave her a nod. "Watch your back."

"Isn't that what you're here for?" Emma smirked. "Come on."

They followed the fake Killian deeper through the tunnel, the water receding until it merely lapped at their feet, until they came to trap door, set into the ceiling above them.

"Up here," the fake Killian directed.

"You first," Emma replied. "I'll keep watch back here."

"Regina can do that," he argued.

"You go," Emma insisted. "I'll be right behind you."

He gave her a disgruntled nod, then pulled the door handle, and a set of stairs unfolded, leading to the darkness above. He started up, and with a nod to Regina, Emma began to ascend behind him.

He stood alone in an empty chamber, and Emma eyed him warily.

"Where do we go from here?" Regina asked as she joined them.

"We've come in on the north side," faux Killian replied. "If we keep heading that way, we should reach the great hall."

"I had no idea you'd been inside here before," Regina said, arching a brow.

"Most castles follow a standard layout," he replied over his shoulder. "Come on - the sooner we find the baby, the better."

"I can't wait to meet the little darling," Regina said. "You promised you'd tell me her name when I finally get to meet her."

The fake Killian's head snapped around.

"When you're face to face," Emma said. "A promise is a promise."

"I think I hear something!" he shouted, and broke into a run. Emma and Regina followed suit, racing down the hallway. They burst through a door at the end of the chamber, and came to a halt in front of a cradle. Emma rushed forward in an instant, scooping the baby up into her arms.

The baby was peacefully asleep. A little too peacefully.

"What's wrong with her?" Emma asked with growing alarm. She tickled the baby's feet, stroked her cheek, shook her arms - and still the baby slept.

"It's a sleeping spell," Regina said. "Not a full-on curse - she's breathing. It keeps her sleeping until that blackened nightmare gets her to the other realm. A lot less trouble this way."

"Can we break her out of it?" Emma asked, kissing her daughter's cheek.

Regina shook her head. "I'm not sure - it depends on whether this was a potion or not."

"Like the poppy dust?"

"She might just need to sleep it off - and that's not a bad idea. Let her sleep through the worst of this."

"She's right," the fake Killian agreed. "She's better off sleeping, the little darling. I suppose I'll be getting a new tattoo soon - one with her name on it."

"Or you could just stitch a sampler or something," Emma said, with a tight smile.

The faux Killian rolled his eyes and a moment later, The Black Fairy stood before them.

"How long have you known?" She asked, putting a petulant hand on her hip.

"From the moment you made the switch," Regina said. "You're not very good at this."

"Good enough to get my prize," she crowed. "Surely you don't think I'm letting you walk out with her? What's the little darling's name, anyway?"

"None of your business," Emma said flatly. "We know your game. As long as you don't know her name, you can't take her anywhere."

The fairy slowly paced the room, running her fingers over the tops of the furniture. "I can't take her to the dark realm," she said with a slight shrug. "But there are plenty of places I can take her. So many realms. So many possibilities."

"What have you done with Killian?"

"Oh, he's safe enough," she said. "For now."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Regina asked.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," she said easily. "I don't want to hurt him - or you for that matter. I'm here to make you a deal."

"I don't do deals," Emma says. "Not when they involve my children."

"That's right - you have another. Henry. Charming young man, but he's not as special as this little darling." She made a move to step towards Emma, but Emma and Regina both put up a hand to stop her.

"Step away," Emma warned.

"I know better than to let her deal with The Black Fairy," Regina added.

The fairy paused a moment, giving the two of them a slow appraisal. "I'm no threat to you," she purred. "Why, we're practically cousins, all of us. Touched by darkness. We've all reveled in it."

"I wouldn't call it reveling," Emma said.

"But you have to admit, there was a definite pull," the Fairy said. "All that darkness. . .all that power . . ."

"Is there a point to this?" Regina asked. "Or are you just in love with your own voice?"

The fairy gave her an annoyed look. "I'm only saying that what I want can be given with great reward."

"Give you my baby?" Emma asked incredulously. "You want me to _give_ you my baby?"

"What is his life worth to you?" The fairy asked shrewdly. "I can crush him with a thought. You only have one true love, but you're reasonably young. You can have more children. I can give you a potion that would ensure it, in fact. What's one teensy, tiny little baby?"

Emma's face was stone. "Try again."

"Very well," the fairy said, dropping all pretense at friendliness. "How about this? Your child will only awaken at the sound of her true name."

"What?" Emma's eyes flew open wide.

"She's going to need to feed soon, isn't she? Or you can just watch her waste away . . . I'm in no hurry."

"You vicious . . .demented . . " Regina started in.

"Ah-ah!" The fairy warned, holding up a finger.

"Disgusting . . .horrible . . ."

"Enough." The fairy was seriously getting ticked now.

"Gaudy . . .insufferable . . ."

"This is getting old."

"And speaking of old," Regina said, "I forgot wrinkled and warped, along with unhygienic . . ."

The fairy threw up her hands. "Honestly, how much longer are you going on with this?"

"Long enough for me to do this," Killian said from behind her, as he set his hook to her throat.

"You!" She looked at him incredulously. "How did you get out?"

Killian smirked over her shoulder at Emma. "She put me in a locked room."

"Maybe we should call you the Dim Fairy, instead," Emma snarked. "Putting a pirate in a locked room and expecting that to work out."

"Took you long enough," Regina said. "I was running out of adjectives."

"You?" Emma raised her brows. "Seriously?"

"Are you children finished?" The fairy asked with a good deal of irritation. "No one is leaving this room until I get a name."

"Won't it be hard to say her name without working vocal chords?" Killian asked, making a move to push his hook against her throat again, but she lifted her hand with a flourish and he suddenly vanished.

"Where is he!" Emma demanded.

"It's a bit chilly in here, don't you think?" the fairy said, a little too sweetly. "We don't want the little angel catching cold, now do we?"

The hearth, which had been cold and dark, suddenly blazed with light and the heat of a roaring fire, followed immediately by a shout of _'Bloody Hell_!'

"Killian!"

"He'll make a nice meal for the black wolves I keep around my castle," the fairy said. "Of course, they usually eat their meals raw, instead of cooked . . ."

"Why, you-" Regina loaded up a fireball and let it fly. The black fairy knocked it aside, and then another, and another. Regina kept advancing on her, all while the sounds of Killian struggling and reacting to the licking flames echoed through the fireplace floo. Emma raced over, getting as close as she dared with the baby in her arms.

"Killian! Hold on!" She concentrated, sending a wave of magic at the fire. It dimmed, then flared again as the Black Fairy sent Regina's fireballs ricocheting into it.

"Augh! Dammit!"

"Sorry!" Regina shouted back. "How the hell are you hanging on in there?"

"I recently learned how to climb rock one-handed," was Killian's muffled reply. "But I'd appreciate you tying this up."

"With pleasure!" Emma pulled back her hand, and an arc of white light hit the fairy in the chest, sending her reeling. Before she could recover, Regina sent a swirling arc of fire to surround her, imprisoning her - but only for a moment.

The fairy gave a cackling laugh, then stepped right through the flames. Emma took another shot at her but the fairy deflected it with a wall of solid black smoke, causing it to rebound and glance off the walls, raining shards of rock down on the baby.

"Face it," she said. "You can't beat me."

Suddenly, the fire in the hearth went out, covered by a leather jacket that was dropped down upon it. A moment later, Killian slid down the chimney and clambered out, coughing a bit and dusting off his shoulders.

"Did you know smothering is the fastest way to put out a fire? Very helpful when you're in the desert without any water around for miles."

"I should have just killed you outright," the fairy complained.

"Why didn't you, by the way," Killian asked. "Not that I didn't appreciate the exercise, but isn't obliterating someone a lot easier?"

"I knew that if Emma returned, she'd go looking for you, drawing her out."

"The perfect plan," Killian said, "If only you hadn't underestimated us."

"You sacrificed a jacket," the fairy said, in a voice laden with sarcasm. "I'd say I'm underwhelmed, but that's much too descriptive a word."

"Really?" Killian said with a shrug. "I consider my selfless act to be more of a distraction. Regina!"

The Black Fairy whirled around, only to come face to face with Regina, and a handful of black fairy dust. It surrounded her in a cloud that started to disperse, but Emma raised a hand, sending a powerful arc into it, energizing it and forcing it inward. A scream cut the air as the cloud imploded, leaving nothing but a few curling strands of singed hair.

Regina waved a hand in front of her nose, fanning away the acrid black smoke. "It's going to take weeks to get the stench out of this place," she complained.

A second later, a baby's cry cut the air, and Emma looked down in surprise.

"Hey there!" she said, lifting her daughter up and kissing her face. "Are you hungry?"

"How is that possible?" Regina asked. "Even if you killed the Black Fairy - and that's highly unlikely - the spell would still hold."

"It did," Emma said, nuzzling her close.

"That is, until I accidentally called out her name," Killian replied. "Which happens to be your name."

Regina looked at them with shock that rapidly turned to a wash of tears in her eyes, followed by a smile. "Really? You're naming her for me?"

"It's a fine old Storybrooke tradition to name a baby after someone who had an impact on your life," Emma said, rocking her baby in her arms. "So this is Regina Ruth - we'll call her Gina for short, if that's okay with you."

"You're on board with this?" Regina asked Killian.

He gave her a crooked grin. "You introduced me to Cora, and she introduced me to Emma. If you hadn't sent Emma to the Enchanted Forest, we may never have met. Our child came into the world in the best of hands."

"I don't -" Regina broke off, clearing the lump from her throat. "I don't know what to say. Really. I'm. . . honored."

"Say you'll buy me a new leather jacket," Killian said, clapping her on the back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to hold a baby for a moment so that Emma can work on getting her fed."

"I'll give you a moment of privacy," Regina said smiling. She stepped out the door, and then peeked her head back in. "Do you need me to bring you a chair?" she asked.

"That's be great," Emma replied.

"How are you, Regina?" Killian asked.

She let out a chuckle. "The Black Fairy is good and gone, I promise. We don't need the code question anymore."

"I know. I was truly asking," Killian said, grinning.

"Then my answer's the same," Regina said with a smile. "I'm thrilled to be here,"

"Another day in paradise," Emma said, stroking her daughter's downy hair and then passing her into her father's arms.

Killian kissed his daughter on the head, then looked at the remains of his smoldering jacket.

"I need a drink," he said with a sigh.


	13. The Rest Of The Story

"And then the beautiful princess married the dashing pirate, and the kingdom became a shining place, filled with wonder," Killian intoned softly as he rocked his daughter gently in the crook of his arm. "For true love conquered all the darkness, and peace ruled throughout the land. . ."

"Speaking of peace," Emma said softly from the doorway, "That's the most peaceful she's been all day."

Killian raised a brow. "She's got a boisterous temperament. She can't help it - she's a Jones. It goes along with the devilish good looks."

Emma walked over to plant a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. "She's out like a light. I don't know how you do it."

"Oh, there's nothing to it really," Killian said, laying the baby down in her crib. She stretched for a moment, nuzzling a fist and snuggling into her blanket. Then her mouth fell slack and her breathing became even.

"I just tell her stories," Killian continued. "Stories that I very much want to be true."

"I could get used to a peaceful kingdom," Emma said with a sigh. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Killian took her hand in his and led her from the baby's room, then down the hall. He stopped her before she could open the door, turning her so that she could face him.

"I had planned to do this on the deck of my ship, under a sky full of stars, but as we've a baby to look after now . . . accommodations must be made."

Emma gave him a confused look, and with that, he reached out and opened the door.

The room was awash in candlelight, hundreds of them set about, glowing and gleaming in the darkness. The bed was scattered with rose petals, and a bottle of champagne stood chilling in a bucket on the bedside table, right next to two crystal glasses.

"Whoa." Emma stood, open-mouthed. "When did you have time to do this?"

"I had help," Killian chuckled. "Your mother got the candles from the fairies - they were quite appreciative that we've banished the Black Fairy back to her dark realm."

"Let's hope she stays there," Emma said.

"According to Blue, it'll be a millennium at least before she has the power to break free again." He pulled her over toward the bed. "But I don't want to talk about her. I want to talk about us."

Emma's lips twitched. "Rose petals on the bed and you want to _talk_?"

"As I said, this wasn't the first choice of venue, but I'm not willing to wait a moment longer."

He sank down to one knee, and Emma's eyes went wide at the sight of the ring, nestled in a black velvet box. It seemed to sparkle with an unearthly glow, and the band gleamed in the candlelight, shining brightly beneath the stone.

"It's a diamond from the mines beneath Storybrooke," Killian said. "The dwarves found it especially for you. I wanted something of this place - this magical place - since it's so much a part of our lives. The band is fashioned from the melding of three different pieces of gold: a brooch that belonged to your mother's mother, a pendant that belonged to your father's mother, and my elder brother's Captain's insignia. Together, they're all a part of the story that makes us."

Emma stared down at the ring in the box until Killian couldn't stand it any longer.

"Say something, won't you?"

"I . . . I . . ." Emma looked down at him, touched by the uncertainty in his eyes. "You honestly think I'd say no?"

He rose to his feet, crushing her in his embrace. "You do give a man pause," he said, rubbing his chin into her hair.

She pulled back. "You don't have to question this. You don't have to wonder if you deserve this. I'm yours and you're mine and as a certain pirate would say,'That's and end to it.'"

He stared down at her, and the brightness in his eyes made something clench in her belly, low and deep. His hand shifted, his thumb caressing her jawline as he leaned in and she met him halfway.

Killian's lips played across hers with a finesse that made her toes curl, and something ignited as the kiss went wild, deepening into something more. Emma's hand slid into his hair, mussing it up as he moved his mouth to her neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down and then back up again, making her clutch at his upper arms, her fingers digging in as her breath came in gasps.

"Killian…"

"Mmm..? He murmured against her skin. His thumbs were doing wonderful things to the undersides of her breasts, and Emma momentarily lost her train of thought. His mouth claimed hers again and when they came up for air, she forced herself to push him back.

"Don't you want to put the ring on my finger?"

His look of chagrin made her laugh, and she was still laughing as he slid the ring down on her finger. He tossed the box aside, then his mouth came down on hers and her train of thought derailed again. She felt his hands sliding down, cupping her bottom and pulling her in and suddenly, she couldn't get close enough, rubbing and pressing her lower body into his as the kiss went on and on. He backed her to the bed, giving her a push and coming down next to her.

"Look up," he murmured, unbuttoning her shirt and nuzzling the valley between her breasts.

Emma lifted her eyes to the ceiling overhead and let out a gasp that had little to do with what his teeth were doing to her nipples. The entire ceiling was sparkling like a sky full of stars.

"Fairy dust," Killian said, before his lips and teeth returned to their task. Emma bunched up the material of his shirt, yanking it until it slipped over his head. It was only a few moments later before they were both out of their clothes and ripping the covers back from the bed.

Killian slid in next to her, leaning over her and she arched into his touch, bringing her leg up to slide along his. He rolled himself on top of her, kissing her deeply, his tongue twining and circling with hers, feeling the give of her warm, willing body as he pressed her into the bed. Emma brought her legs up and around him, but he didn't want this over quickly.

"Not yet," he murmured huskily, his lips burying in her neck, tracing patterns of fire all along her throat and down to her collarbone, trailing his tongue across it and making her writhe beneath him. She gasped when his mouth closed over her breast, sucking it hard, then moved over to the other one, wringing desperate sounds from her as his teeth grazed the sensitive tip.

Emma's hands buried in his hair and he kept up the torment, adding the play of his fingers as they slid down her body.

He pulled back for a moment, fumbling a bit with the condom before moving between her legs. He fit himself to her and slid into her by inches, going slow and savoring the feel of her. She made an appreciative sound low in her throat that told him he'd hit exactly the right spot in exactly the right way.

Killian smiled against the skin of her neck and did it again, and again, and she met him thrust for thrust, moving with him, losing herself in the feeling. When he felt her quicken the tempo, he circled his hips, giving her everything she needed.

Emma cried out as her fingers dug into his shoulders and her body tightened and convulsed around him. He followed her a few breathless moments later, then he pulled her with him as he rolled to his side, not wanting to crush her into the mattress - which was almost funny considering a few moments before that was exactly what his body had wanted to do. Emma rolled a bit awkwardly, and he smiled to himself. A well-pleasured woman always had that slack-limbed clumsiness about them. He made pulled the covers up around them, and then settled in on his side, facing her.

"I'm going to sleep like a baby," she said, letting out a long breath of air.

As if on cue, a baby's cry cut the air, and Emma's eyes filled with dismay. "Are you kidding me?" she huffed. "I haven't even gotten my breath back yet!"

"It would appear this is to be our life for some time," Killian said. "We'll just do as we always have, and work with it." He gave her a kiss. "I'll go calm the little darling."

He reached for his pants, sliding into them as the baby's cries became more insistent.

"Don't forget to finish the story," Emma said, rolling onto her side and reaching out to stroke his back. "Tell her they lived happily ever after."

"Books end, love," Killian said, reaching for her hand and bringing it to her lips. "Stories don't. This story's only just begun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hello Readers! Thanks so much for keeping me company during the hiatus and being so patient with me as I tried to work updates around a book launch (and the writing of my second book). It's been so much fun writing fic again. Here's hoping the second half of season 6 is all we've been looking forward to! Check my website for details on my OUAT recap blog, romance novels (website address in profile) and giveaways!_


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